671: The Reveal
I ended yesterday’s offerings on New York Shitty with a brain teaser. I wrote:
Today a young woman with a most curious tattoo came to the junk shop. As you can see it is the borough of Brooklyn, rendered in argyle, and includes a number. Anyone care to guess what it means? She told me and I will give the reveal tomorrow at noon. Itâ€™s really neat!
Well, it’s noon and here’s the reveal.
This very nice young lady (who is employed at Papasitos) came into the junk shop with her mother— who was a lovely lady in her own right. She was fabulous.
As they were exiting I got a passing glance of the above tattoo. I locked onto the visage of Greenpoint like the Garden Spot geek that I am. I can pick out the silhouette of our fair burgh a mile away. Probably because it bears a disquieting resemblance that fucked-up blob thing from the Gigglesnort Hotel I saw— repeatedly and much to my disturbance— as a little kid.
(To get a true grasp of how truly weird this show— and 1970’s childrens’ television in general— were click on the above image and watch the video. CAVEAT: Do not watch this under the influence of any mind-altering substances.)
I looked again at her tattoo. This time to the south. I recognized Coney Island. My eyes were not deceiving me: this was county of Kings rendered in Argyle. With a number: 671. So I asked her about it.
She said she grew up at 671 Argyle Road, Brooklyn, 11230. And she piquantly added:
I thought I grew up in the suburbs— until I actually saw what suburbs were.
Her mother laughed.
So there’s the reveal. A tattoo— which in hindsight— is not so cryptic. And pretty damned cool!
Hey, if her mother (who has since left Victorian Flatbush) likes it, who am I to judge? What’s more, I think it is neat!