"You did that all on your own,"I reminded her.
She rolled her eyes and tucked her phone away in her pocket. I did the same with mine.
After we paid for our meals, it was time to hit the town. Like Las Vegas, Costa Diablo never slept, and we would be up most ofthe night with all the wacky games Becca and Bruce had in store for us.
I didn't guessat the real reason for our split from Bruce and the others until we ended up on Poor Man's Wharf. It was nothing like the one in our sister-town to the south, San Francisco. Instead of high-end trendy shops, we had a string of all-night bars and strip clubs. Tucked between a payday loan store and a pawn shop, a tall neon sign that spelled "Tattoos" one blue-outlined pink letter at a time pointed us into the bright white interior.
This wasn't the first time we'd tried to lose our ink virginity together. Becca kept chickening out. First, she didn't know what she wanted. Then, she didn't think she could handle the pain. The last time we'd tried, she'd said it was a bad omen to get a tattoo when it was raining.
I glanced out at the stars shining over the ocean and grinned at her. "No weather worries this time."
"Shut up. We're getting tattoos." Her breath smelled strongly of tequila from the Mexican restaurant's massive margaritas. I had a bad feeling I would regret sticking with water.
Inside, the shop smelled of lemon and sage, but it wasn't overwhelming, and I didn't see any smoke to indicate burning incense. There was a sandwich board listing the types and sizes of herbal teas available. Behind that was a shiny stainless-steel box about the size of a small freezer chest. I didn't know what it was until Becca pulled me past the sign (the ginger turmeric tea was calling my name) to view another sign on top of the machine. It was coin-operated and spat out little prize containers. According to the sign, they weren't prizes, onlynumbers that corresponded to the numbered animal designs on the wall. "One number per person per month," I read aloud. "If you like the corresponding tattoo, you get it for only $99."
I glanced at the machine again. The stainless-steel sides looked new, or recently replaced, but the kickboard had a few dents in it, and the swinging prize door had been ripped off its filed-down hinges.
"This would be perfect for you!" Becca said.
"How?" I wanted to choose my tattoo, not some random animal. I didn't even recognize several on the board.
"How many times have we tried to get tattoos, but you were too overwhelmed by choices? This way, they choose for you!"
That didn't make it better, in my opinion, but I loved Becca. While I knew we would always make time to hang out, this felt momentous. If I chickened out, and she got a tattoo without me, she would ditch me after the wedding.
I didn't want that. Our friendship would last forever if I had anything to say about it. "I'll do it."
Her smile alone gave me confidence. Even if I got one of the strange animals I didn't recognize, it would be all right.
I put a quarter into the slot and twisted it to bring the machine to life. The display's dim backlight flared, covering me in radiance that made my skin itch.
It was gone so fast, I thought I'd imagined it until Becca said, "That was weird. Are you all right?"
The sound of hard plastic hitting metal startled us both. A plastic toy container now sat in the machine's gaping mouth.
"Looks like this is mine." I squatted down and reached inside to grab the plastic container.
When I stood up, Becca had disappeared. My heart raced as I frantically searched for her. Then I spotted her by the counter, talking to a heavily tattooed man with a well-trimmed beard a shade darker than his shoulder-length brown hair.
"Jamie, this is my bestie, Gabe! He wants one of your numbered tattoos."
"Sweet!" Jamie's face lit up, and I forgot my earlier worries. "Which one did you get?"
"I don't know yet." As I set the frosted plastic, flat on the bottom and curved like a bird cage, on the countertop, I felt like I was performing a magic trick. With a flourish, I popped it open.
Number thirteen. Of course I got thirteen.
"Sweet!" Jamie said again, this time with a huge smile. "My partner's got the second row, and he's just finishing up another tattoo."
I glanced at the board. "Okay, but what is it?"
Becca stared at me as if I'd grown a second head. "Don't embarrass me in front of my new tattoo artist," she hissed under her breath.
"Seriously," I said, looking back up at the strange creature standing on its hind legs. It had a sharp snout and large, front-facing eyes, and a long tail. I couldn't tell if it was a weasel, dog, or monkey.
"It's a meerkat," Jamie said. "Like the show."
"Yes," Becca hissed some more. "Like the show." She frowned at me, and then she shook her head. "Right. It was around the time your dad canceled cable and you had that antenna in your living room."
