“ I’m in Sydney for a week and I have an expense account….quit your job and get over here .” and so I did just that and the next morning found me on the 1,000 mile Ansett Airlines flight Adelaide to Sydney where I discovered that Dave did indeed have an expense account. One evening while denting said account we befriended an older American tourist and Daves gift of the gab convinced the guy he ought to get his head shaved and have rams horns tattooed on….. “ You can play pro ball “ was the defining argument and so we all toddled off to a famous Tat palace in Kings Cross.
The guy punked at the very last moment but we decided that as we were there “What the heck” … I chose the “Southern Cross” star formation . Its whats on the Aussie flag. I won’t embarrass Dave by saying what he got but I will embarrass myself by explaining the next morning. Not so bright and not so early I carefully peeled off the bandage to scrutinise my “Southern Cross” only to come face to face with Woodsy the friggin Owl. Oh God.
The only explanation I can offer is that somehow I cut in front of someone in the line…I guess. To this day I’ve never told my Mother this story and through fear of punishment, my Father either.
There remains only a remnant of Woodsy now… he being victim of six very painful and pricy laser treatments. I don’t miss Woodsy, and I still hate tattoos….but he did provide a story and sometimes…that’s important.
