I was dealing Texas Hold'em to a table of regulars. A couple of players dropped out and were replaced by a pair of brash young women who turned out to be dealers from one of the casinos downstate. The were not exactly incognito, in fact the blonde seemed unable to go more than 60 seconds without attracting the table's attention in whatever way she could.
George, who was sitting to her left, was playing along. He noticed her tattoo and remarked in a loud voice, "Excuse me ma'am, but did you know you have writing on your butt?" She promptly stood up and turned around to show the whole table her tattoo, while explaining that he day she got it she was wearing "silk pants" that slid down so far that the tattoo was in the wrong place (which was why she came to be standing at my poker table nearly dropping her drawers).
The retired attorney on her right, who is accustomed to his share of the limelight, wait for the uproar to die down before he offers "Well, I also have a tattoo." He waits another moment. "It has a T and an A, but when I get excited it says 'Ticonderoga'."
Blondie apparently can't spell or do math because the joke goes right over her head, but the rest of us were chuckling for a while.
Coincidently, my neighbor has a new essay "Tattoos and Marriage" on her blog: Kathleen Stocking .