It was obvious by the heavily-inked group of strangers at Lux Thursday night, that the Rochester International Tattoo Expo artists had hit town.They partied out back, and chatted with some of us over gin and tonics at the bar. My friend Jenna asked if it's hot not to be tattooed (so far, she and I don't sport any ink), suggesting it was like having virgin skin. The Philly-based artist we spoke with paused, couldn't quite bring himself to agree, but admitted that being tattoo-less does have a certain cool these days.

We checked out the first of the three-day-long expo on Friday. My friend Aubrey and I boarded the elevator at the same time as one of the local artists. He directed other expo-goers to the correct floor of the hotel.

The place was crawling with tattooed and pierced 20- to 40-somethings (give or take a few years), but wasn't yet going full-tilt. You had to pay $10 to get in ($25 for a weekend pass), and though that seemed a bit steep, we forked it over.

We paged through albums of tattoos, and watched as more than a few people pulled off their shirts, rolled up their sleeves, and got new ink right in front of us. That seems to be the idea; if you attend an event like this, you can be tattooed by world-class artists.

The selection ranged from simple designs to elaborate animals, each bit of fur intricately detailed. Though some, like the reoccurring peacocks, were tempting, we didn't get any tats; we just chatted with some of the artists and admired their handiwork. Clothing, jewelry, and purses were also on display, and announcements were made concerning that evening's "worst tattoo" contest.

After we wandered between the two rooms and saw all there was to see, we sat and drank a couple of beers. The colorful crowd went back and forth, exiting the hotel to smoke, and coming back in again. A few girls carried large pink hula-hoops and a very, very creepy clown also came and went. We never figured out what he was doing there.