"The Legend of Ratt Boy"

When I worked at a used record store, I once got condescendingly asked, "Do you even know who Ratt is?" by a guy who had two (visible) tattoos.

They were magnificent and I would like to tell you about them.

PART ONE:

He came in around 11 one morning looking for the song "Round and Round." 

"On cassette," in a rather aggressive voice, he demanded. I was the only one in the shop at that moment because my coworkers had all gone out back to smoke a bowl (I was straight edge at the time— no, honestly). I knew the song and figured that since this was 2002 and we only had one Ratt tape in the section, it would definitely be the one with the band's only hit on it.

The store was packed so I was trying to multi-task the best I could. I happily lead our friend over to the section, grabbed the tape, handed it to him, and pointed out the listening station behind us. "I'll be running the register, but just holler if you need anything", I said as I turned to do so.

That's when I got my first good look at them.

They were both front-facing portraits, kind of akin to mugshots. There was one on each shoulder and he was wearing a denim vest with no shirt, so it was very clear to me -the helpful record store clerk- the two icons of music that this kind fellow had immortalized into his own flesh:

On the right, in full hairdo, makeup, and tongue extension, was Gene Simmons.

On the left, looking like an even more ornately beautiful "ghost with blonde dreadlocks" than his real self, was Boy George.

Our friend with no clear discrimination in taste was happy for the opportunity to "try before you buy" and I was on my way back to the register, a better and more cultured version of myself than before my encounter with this unexpected, and truly appreciated, visitor.

PART TWO:

So about five minutes later my coworkers came back in, got themselves together enough to come back up front and do their fucking jobs, and I went back to my main task away from the register. Guy comes over to me. Has the tape in one hand, as he points and taps at it with the other on certain words - to I guess make it extra clear that HEY THIS DOESN'T HAVE MY SONG ON IT.

"Ahhh man, I'm sorry. Lemme see what I can do for you, we might have some unprocessed backstock," I say as I drop everything I'm doing -again- and quickly make my way around him to go do that.

"Do you even know who Ratt IS?" emerges from his mouth as we meet back at the front counter.

"Nah man, check back tho— we see that one a lot."

(I was telling the truth.)

He walks out, empty handed and in a huff. Along the way, my high as hell coworker at the register chirps, "Nice ink man!" 

The unexpected visitor did a rather rude thing at this point and gave my coworker the middle finger.

"Jeez, what's with RATT BOY?" was probably the last thing Ratt Boy heard as he left the store that morning. We never saw him again. However, dearest reader, I have a confession to make -and I have a confession about my confession- and that is:

I wanted very much to have another unexpected visit from Ratt Boy. I thought of him as a kindred spirit. I knew the inner conflict that arises from liking such broad contrasts in equal measure and I was also not interested in explaining myself whatsoever. I liked James Brown and The Cure. Joni Mitchell and Janet Jackson, dammit. These were all the same thing to me: classic.

I wanted another visit from Ratt Boy so much, in fact, that as soon as I saw a copy of the tape with "Round and Round" come through, I grabbed it and immediately needed to make sure we would definitely have it on Ratt Boy's next visit: I put it in my section of the employee holds bin.

I knew who Ratt was.

by andy.

(with kind regards to Matt Kendig)