I met Jim at a tattoo parlor. There is a picture in your mind of who would frequent a tattoo parlor on a Thursday night. That picture is Jim. He has a bushy black beard. He's loud but not angry. He doesn't mind involving the whole group in his conversation. He'll ask a stranger in the chair next to him to agree on a point he's trying to make. He's spending another night getting his entire right arm tattooed. It's a dragon. Did you really have to ask what it was? Of course it's a dragon.