It's a machine, not a gun.

Hi, my name is Kamala and I’m a tattooist. Well, lets say… “junior tattooist”. (I’m learning!! Anybody want some stars? I rock at tattooing stars… and hearts… and names. I’ll be graduating to butterflies and shamrocks soon.) I’m the Resident Artist for Capogiro by day and an ink pusher by night. When do I sleep? Whats sleep? Sounds laaaaaame.

So, all the tattooists in Philly are required to take a blood borne pathogen test at the health department every 3 years or so. It’s a fun tattooey tradition for my boyfriend and I (who are just about the biggest geeks you’ll ever meet…). Its great bumping into other artists that you haven’t seen in years, catching up and hearing the latest rock star gossip that almost ALWAYS involves prison or smack. The questions that people ask the poor woman in charge of the class are always a roar; “Why can’t I pierce babies?”

After a long morning of talking shop, we decided to trek down to the Gayborhood for some vittles. (Tattooists have strong stomachs. I watched a guy eat fried chicken while he was tattooing a girl’s foot once…bleh!) We hit Fergie’s for some of Carey’s Perfect Manhattans and 2 giant orders of nachos. Half cocked at noon; our motley crew swaggered over to Capo 13^th for a gelati tasting frenzy. My coworker at Tru Blu Tatu, Mike, is a fat girl trapped in a 40 year old man’s body. He talks frequently and passionately about food; his eyes sorta haze over when he raves about sushi and for a second you might get the feeling that if he doesn’t get a dragon roll soon, you might end up being it’s alternative.

So, needless to say, I was excited to be his liaison to the land of Capogiro. I was pretty sure his head would explode and a fat girl named Molly would crawl out, jump behind the counter and devour every pan of gelati in the case… even single malt scotch. Fortunately for our baristi (who just hate cleaning up brains…) his head did not explode. But, the boys did try just about every flavor in the case and they got sent back to the burbs with big bags of ice, pints of Thai coconut and big goofy smiles on their faces. Viva Capogiro!