Miami (Day Three): In Which Our Lives Turn Into A Reality TV Show
Guys, a lot of important events happened on Day Three in Miami.
- I bought green shades that perfectly matched my green nail polish.
- Eleanor and I kicked little children out of a playground so that we could use the swings (hey, I never said we were role models).
- We ate really rancid Mexican food on Espanola Way, a historic Spanish village that has some really lovely boutiques and restaurants, the latter of which we must have missed.
But none of that matters. What matters is that, on this day, El and I finally had one of our lifelong dreams realized: to be featured on a reality TV show. And by that, I mean we accidentally surrounded ourselves with former reality show stars for a good 15 seconds, but I say that still counts.
Do you remember a little show called Miami Ink? For the two of you who never caught a rerun on TLC, it was a show about a tattoo shop in Miami Beach (the title is pretty self-explanatory). The artists were all either adorable or hilarious, and they turned out koi tattoos like you read about. As you all know, I’m a big fan of body artwork and I never know when to say no to them. What’s even worse is that Eleanor also has this problem. We may look like two American Eagle-wearing, pure as snow little girls from the ‘burbs (guilty), but in actuality, I don’t think either one of us would ever turn down a chance to get more ink done.
Having said all that, Eleanor and I both agreed that we HAD to make a mandatory stop at the actual Miami Ink show while we were in the MIA. Eleanor then came up with the idea of us getting the ugliest, cheesiest temporary tattoos in Miami Beach (not hard to find) and taking a picture of our new “ink” in front of the shop. Hilarious, right? Come on. Comedy gold. We should get paid for this stuff.
After a few confusing moments in our hotel bathroom, we were both donning two frisky-looking devils on our arms and ready to head over to the shop, which is now called the Love Hate Tattoo Shop.
The forecast for Miami was leaning towards “typhoon” that day, but we weren’t in a rush. When we finally got around to heading over to Love Hate, still fully committed to our photo strategy, I noticed a moderately-sized crowd gathered around the entrance to the shop. These kids looked like they were skipping Geometry class, wearing Keds and hoodies and awkwardly hovering and sneaking looks at a man who had his back to us. The guy was leaning against a black truck and wearing a black hat to match, and I jokingly said to Eleanor “That’s probably Ami, he’s been waiting for us all afternoon!” She laughed in my face in response.
Welp, turns out, I got the last laugh.
We arrived at the shop, and suddenly we weren’t so confident in showing off our devil tatties because Ami James, owner of Love Hate and star of Miami Ink, was just a few feet away from us, maxin’ and relaxin’ and talking to his intimidatingly-ripped lady friend.
So here’s Ami:
And here’s us:
I think both of us went into a Stage 5 panic attack. You see this person on TV for most of your life, and then all of a sudden they just materialize right next to you? In FRONT of the location that was also featured on TV? THAT DOESN’T HAPPEN. Reality TV became a little too real for either Eleanor or I to handle, and soon we were trying to decide whether to choose flight or fight.
We hovered with the high school seniors for a minute, found our cajones sitting on the floor, and then finally worked up the courage to ask Ami for a picture.
SWOON, right? Eleanor was giggling like a hyena, and I became mute, but dammit if we didn’t get photographic evidence of our brush with reality TV. After getting high off of whatever intoxicating cologne Ami was wearing that day, we floated down Washington Avenue only to have Darren Brass, another tattoo artist from Miami Ink, walk by us with a delicious-looking smoothie in his hand. Sensory overload.
Well needless to say, we got a little cocky. We ran down the street to Dash, hoping that we would find Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian “working” so that we could become the kind of best friends that exchange BFFL charm bracelets and paint each other’s toe nails at sleepovers. But yet, they weren’t there.
I’m sure they just forgot our numbers or something.
Have YOU ever had a celebrity encounter while traveling?
- Alison
