Читать книгу Meatspace - Nikesh Shukla, Nikesh Shukla - Страница 10

People, there are 3 rules that apply to all tattoos …

1 If you get the name of a loved one tattooed on your body, you will break up with each other.

2 If you design the tattoo yourself, chances are it’s not good enough to go on your body.

3 If you think your tattoo is unique, it definitely isn’t. If your tattoo is unique, it’s most likely shit.

AMIRIGHT?

Take it from Aziz. This shit is gospel. Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and AZIZWILLKILLYOU gospel.

So guys, something weird happened last night. I was talking to my brother, Kit, about getting a tattoo. I want one. I’ve never had one before. I’m definitely the kind of crazy motherfucker who needs a crazy motherfucker tattoo to make him look like a crazy motherfucker. But those 3 rules I listed, they always stopped me. And, why mess with perfection? Innit? My bro Kit’s already declared he’s going to get an ironic ‘job description’ tattooed on his forearm, the sensitive artist. But anyway, we were chatting.

I was saying I should get a random word like ‘sparrow’ or ‘erudite’ tattooed on my bicep as a talking point. Conversational lull? Wanna mystify some beanie in the pub with something vague but talking-pointy? Flex your biceps and wait for the enquiries to pour in.

Because, then people’ll be like … why does it say that word? And I’ll have this amazing story prepared for them. So, Kit and I are discussing words.

‘Sparrow,’ I was like, yeah, weird word.

And he was like, ‘Why?’

And I was like, ‘It doesn’t matter. That’s not the point. It’s a talking point.’

‘Yeah, but neither of us know what to say about it.’

‘True. Erudite?’

Then Kit was like, ‘And what?’

‘And what what?’

‘No … and what?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean … and what?’

‘What the words … “and what?”?’

‘Yeah …’

‘That’s pretty cool. What about an ampersand and a question mark?’

‘Pretty cool.’

‘Not cool enough.’

And then, it hit me. When he came back from the fridge, I was like, ‘I have the answer.’

‘Hit me,’ Kit said.

‘I’ll get my favourite t-shirt. On my chest. That way I’ll never lose it, shrink it, or ruin it. Think about it, I’ll always be dressed. In my favourite t-shirt.’

Kit laughed.

‘Imagine,’ I said. ‘People who confine their tattoos to where they can’t be seen when you’re wearing a suit – what if they got a tattoo that smartened them up?’

‘Like workwear tatts?’

‘Exactly. You gotta be smart for work, right?’

Kit said, ‘I wonder if you could get a tattoo of a tie? That way you’re always smartly dressed.’

‘Nah, man. That would be annoying over your belly. Especially if you put on weight. It’d look stupid,’ I said back.

‘No, mate. A bow tie. Imagine a bow tie tattoo. You would be so dapper, mate. Do you think anyone has ever had a bow tie tattoo on their neck?’

We Googled it. Why not? We’re modern men. And what is the smartphone if not the thing that means conversations never have to descend into bullshit? We have every answer at our fingers. I’m only too happy to look up bow tie tattoos, because if there is one out there, that person is my new hero. All my heroes are either stupid or brave. I typed ‘bow tie tattoo’ into my phone’s search engine and tapped ‘GO’.

I hit the image search and there, courtesy of the internet, were photos of a surprisingly diverse selection of people with bow tie tattoos. Some with bow ties on their breasts, some with bow ties on their forearms but only one where an actual bow tie would be.

‘That’s me,’ I said.

I handed the phone to Kit. Fourth picture into the image list there was a thumbnail of a man who looked remarkably like Aziz. This guy was wearing sunglasses I might wear (aviators in a new rave hue), a black wife-beater, a wicked shit-eating smile, Chico Dusty chocolate skin and the same spiky hair that’s been poking up between girls legs round my way for the last 15 years. The same nose. The same wide-eared ‘YESSSS BLUUUUUD’ grin. And a red bow tie. Tattooed under his neck. Where a real red bow tie would be. I clicked on the thumbnail and it took us to a larger photo. Kit moved to sit next to me. We stared at the screen, dumbfounded looks on our faces.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’

‘No,’ Kit said.

‘I’m doing it. That’s me. I have to do it. I owe it to this me.’ I pointed at the phone. I pointed at the scar on my neck. ‘It’s time to cover this malarkey up.’

‘That’s not you,’ Kit said.

‘It could be me. From the future. Apparently they can do that now with the internets.’

We examined the contours of the bow tie tattoo man’s face. The closer you look, you realise it isn’t me.

‘It’s bloody odd how similar we are,’ I said.

‘That’s the power of the internet,’ Kit said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The more we’re allowed to Google search stuff, the more we realise we’re not special.’

‘Oh, shut up. There’s no one like Aziz. And I’m getting a bow tie tattoo.’

What do you think?

There are 8 comments for this blog:

Muderation: DO IT

Philo Savvy: Yes, cossssssign. DO IT.

MichaelMcArthur: Seriously? WTF> You cray, Aziz.

Decarp: Someone just tweeted this blog and it’s nuts. Wait – you’re gonna get a bow tie tattoo cos someone else who looks like you has one? Yes.

Philo Savvy: Pics or STFU.

AZIZWILLKILLYOU: I’ve been thinking, this is definitely happening people. Not only am I getting that tattoo, but I’m hunting that fuckface down.

KITABWILLDESTROYYOU: Go to bed. Stop stalking people online.

Decarp: Go Aziz!