June 14, 2005

Che what?

Originally from my detritus, reBlogged by ts

A few weeks ago, I met a really lovely Australian girl at a bar.

See, very cute:

I was fascinated by her tattoo, and remarked that it was “very bold.” I think that’s what I said. Sounds dumb, I know. But what else do I say to a really sweet blonde girl with this on her arm:

And she said, “Why? Do you know who he is?” Well of course I do, I replied. “Who is he?!” she asked me. I laughed, then realized she wasn’t joking. After a few times back and forth with are you serious, yes I am, I asked how it came to be that a portrait of Che Guevara ended up on her arm. God I wish I paid more attention to her answer, because it was a good story. I was too distracted by my bewilderment, trying to figure out if she was fucking with me, and fumbling with my camera to catch all of the details. She was either in Cuba or South Africa when she got it at the suggestion of some guys she was hanging out with. I think booze was involved.

She wasn’t fucking with me. And I really liked her.