Showing Off on Public Transit

I don't have the opportunity to ride the El as much as I used to, and I'm poorer for it. But on Friday I rode the line that used to be known by the unwieldy name Congress-Douglas-O'Hare, in pursuit of an article. These days it's the "Blue Line." I never did like the switch from names to colors, even if that particular one was a mouthful. Taking the Brown Line; that has no poetry to it. Taking the Ravenswood Line; that's evocative.

The car wasn't very crowded, and on my end was a lad chatting up a lass. I learned from his chat that he was about to turn 21. She looked in the same ballpark. And what did he do to impress this girl?

Showed off his tattoos. At least some of them. One on each upper arm, including a colorful job he claimed that he'd done himself. He also rolled up his pants a little and showed her one down around his ankle. There was also some discussion about the best places, in his estimation, to get yourself inked in Chicago. I wonder if all that earned him a phone number.