My Technicolor couture tattoo designed by the phenomenal Friday Jones is getting me noticed.  This past weekend at an anti-Valentine’s Day (underwear) party Chef and I attended at a club in the real Alphabet City, the hot bartender with his own swirling ink of sexiness leaned over and studied my tat images of Sydney, Paris and New York.  His admiration earned us a couple of free Absolut and tonics.  Sweet.

Word from today’s NYT is that my tattoo might earn some second looks from the New York Police Department.  Seems they’ve established a database of tattoo images linked to suspicious characters to help them better make identifications in crimes.

My favorite part of the system is its ability to track trends.  For example, despite the hardened veneer of the city, the phrase “I love” is listed nearly 600 times.  Someone has “ambition is a killer.”  I’m picturing a disheartened Wall Street executive with that one.  How’d you like to be the person arrested who has “kill cops” inked on their arm?

Evidently, the police are having a hard time creating understandable descriptive terms for some ink artwork.  Tribal tattoos are particularly problematic.  So take heart circuit party queens, if you get caught doing something naughty at The Black Party chances are the police won’t enter you in the tattoo database.  Hey maybe I could volunteer for the Citizen Auxiliary Tattoo ID Unit, specializing in homo-tats?

This whole thing just amps up my police fantasy-fetish.  Now, the next time I head to Washington Heights’ 34^th Precinct at the end of my block to tussle with them over the parking violations in front of my house, I’ll have an extra incentive to get a little rowdy.  You never know, maybe I’ll wear a tight tank top in order to get myself noticed and booked—into the tattoo database.