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. It’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!

Miss Heather