I have a tattoo. Actually, I have two tattoos, but this story concerns only one of them, the second of the pair, the one on my shoulder. Both of my tattoos are images of creatures that I hold close to my heart and love dearly, cats. The on on my back is the better of the two, the first having been bestowed upon me by a kid in my dorm with marginal talents and a tattoo gun he received as a Christmas present. The second tattoo I got two years ago from a master of ink down in the East Village. The cat is caught in mid-stride, slinking up from my right shoulder towards my neck. It's a silhouette, just a black shape, but exquisitely rendered. It set me back $150 bucks, but it's been well worth that much in the inane comments it generates in the summer months when it's visible.

"Meow!"

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty!"

"Psss Psss Pssss!"

Do they actually think I'm going to come over to them and say, "Hey, that was really clever! Would you sleep with me now?" Sheesh.

The other end of the comments are the involved conversations that usually begin with, "I really like your tattoo," and drone on in an uneasy dialogue until the train comes or the elevator gets to my floor or the subject, which I consider very limited, trails off into an awkward silence. I mean, It's just a tattoo, it's not all that important.

One of the questions that I've gotten twice in as many weeks is, "Is that a black cat or a panther?" Uhhh...excuse me, but seeing as how I'm skinny white girl, I doubt it's a black panther. The next time I get that question I swear I'm going to say, "Yeah, It's a panther. Now don't you fuck with my people."

The best reaction my cattoo has incited happened on the subway. I was on the F Train, sitting down in front of two ultra hip gen-xers listening to them discuss the entertainment business. I noticed I was almost at my stop, so I got up, turned my back to them and prepared to disembark the train. We were entering the station when I heard the dreaded sound.

"Psss Psss Pssss!"

I felt my ears turn red. Ugh. It was that gen-x guy I was just listening to complain about being unemployed. But then I was saved from sheer embarrassment by the girl with him. I will be forever grateful to the wise words she directed at her uncouth counterpart.

"Stop it. Girls don't like that."