Tattoo artist leaves getting inked to others - Lone Star Biker Rally


"I don't know if I trust a tattoo artist without tattoos."

Mr. G -- Jerry Genovese -- has heard that for 37 years.

"I say, 'Well, I respect that, but I know a few brain surgeons who've never had brain surgery.' "

Genovese says he was tempted when he started out.

"Every (tattoo) I looked at I liked, so I knew from the very beginning that if I broke the ice and got the first one, I'd have no skin left in a year," he says. "Tattoos are like potato chips. Once you get one, even if it hurts, by the time it's done and you look at it and you love it, your eyes start wandering to (other tattoos, thinking) how you can balance yourself off on the other arm."

To have empathy for his customers, he's used the tattoo machine, without ink, all over his body.

"The needle goes up and down about 3,000 times a minute," he says, so if it takes an hour ... " He gives a little laugh. "I realize just using it all over my body is not the same as sitting there for an hour or two, but I know what is really sensitive and what isn't."

Genovese and his wife, Joan, live in Daytona Beach, Fla., "on the beach side," but they have no traditional shop. They hit events across the country pulling a 29-foot travel trailer set up as a tattoo parlor. He keeps it in top shape, not only to meet all the health requirements of local agencies but also because even wild-dressing bikers judge by appearance.

"People may feel a little more comfortable with us because we just look like normal people," he says.

He works solo, with Joan registering clients out front. It takes about an hour to do a standard 3-by-4-inch eagle, though the price ($150-$350) and time depend on the amount of detail wanted. At one rally, he worked nonstop 9 a.m. to 3 the next morning.

"I did 107 tattoos in three days."

Warning: Mr. G has a sense of humor. Like when he was drawing a large "Harley" on a biker's back.

"He can't see what I'm doing, and I casually say, 'So, what kind of a Honda do you have?'

"The guy's head gets real still and he says 'What do you mean, Honda?'

Another time "I had a guy get a ribbon (on his back) with his wife's name, Joan. I get the outline done and I say, 'So who's John?'

Since the stigma of a tattoo has diminished, Genovese's business has been good, especially at motorcycle events.

"You would not believe the doctors, the lawyers, the politicians. They start to grow their beards a week or two before they come down so they can mingle. They put on their leathers, and they look a little scraggly, and they're comfortable mingling with everybody."