5.
Graham
Saturday night and it was slow, which, while not great for business, was a nice change in pace to how the last several Saturdays had been. After about an hour’s lull, I told Helena she could take off if she wanted. Unless we had a few walk-ins, I figured I’d work on some art and have a quiet night, which lasted all of twenty minutes before Todd showed up, not looking his usual, optimistic self.
“I was stood up.” He frowned and shook his head in amazement. “Can you believe it?”
“It happens.”
“Has it ever happened to you?”
“No. But whatever, she obviously has no clue what she’s missing out on. Don’t take it so hard.”
I had to admit, it was a little surprising to see how bothered by it he seemed. True, I’d never been stood up before, but I had to imagine that it wouldn’t be that big of deal if it did happen—it wouldn’t be something that I couldn’t just shake off.
“No call or anything, though. And it’s not like this was a blind date or anything—I’ve seen her around. She knew what I looked like.”
I patted him on the back and decided not to bring up his earlier tirade about overanalyzing shit. “Let’s go get a drink,” I said. “It’s been slow as shit. I can close up a little early.”
But no sooner had I said that when the door opened. Talk about timing. Two girls stumbled in, giggling. Todd perked up instantly. They were probably in their early twenties, both attractive, though one was obviously trying harder than the other. She was the more forward one, and she marched right up to the counter and threw her purse down.
“Hello,” she said, and I could smell alcohol on her breath, though she didn’t seem too bad off. “I want a tattoo. Have I come to the right place?”
She had dark-blonde hair with highlights, cut just above her shoulders in choppy layers. Her eyes were large, light brown; she was a little bit bug-eyed. She had a carefree, entitled air about her that immediately gave her away as one of the rich summer residents. She blinked her mascara-caked eyelashes at me and let a coy half-smile appear on her lips.
“I might be able to help you out,” I said.
“That’s good. My name’s Tara, by the way. I’ve got a few tattoos, and maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you see where they are. And this is Chloe. She’s also going to get a tattoo. This would be her first one.” Tara leaned across the counter. “She’s a virgin.”
“Tara!” Chloe’s face turned bright red, and she looked quickly over at me before averting her eyes. “Will you shut up.”
“I meant a tattoo virgin,” Tara said. “So, she’ll probably want to start with something small.”
Todd was watching all of this with an amused look on his face. “I could help you ladies decide,” he said. “Unless you already had something in mind.”
“My mind’s made up,” Tara
said. “I want an anchor—right here.” She traced a finger over the outside of
her right ankle. “But Chloe here might need some help deciding. Or maybe not.
She’s an art student, so she’s probably got some ideas. Right?”
The redness still hadn’t completely subsided yet from Chloe’s cheeks. “I’m not
sure,” she said. She looked at me apologetically for a second before averting
her eyes back down to the floor. “I thought I wanted ... I mean ... I just
don’t know.”
“I’m sure people come in here all the time not exactly knowing,” Tara said. “You can give suggestions, right?”
“I have,” I said. “But we were actually just about to close up.” I could tell both girls were a little tipsy, and I didn’t give tattoos to drunk people.
“What?” Tara pulled her phone out of her purse and looked at it. “It’s not ten o’clock yet. Not even close. Your sign says you close at ten.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You’ll have to come back.”
Tara gave me a defiant look, but the expression that crossed Chloe’s face was hard to read—it was a mix between hurt and surprise and I felt bad, of all things. What the fuck?
“You ... you won’t give me a tattoo?” she said.
I imagined her to be the sort of girl who always did the right thing, who was never told she couldn’t do something because she never wanted to do anything that would get her in trouble.
“I can’t,” I said. “Not now, anyway. Feel free to come back, though. Just don’t have a drink first.”
“Aw, come on,” Tara said. “I bet people come in here all the time a little drunk. I mean, don’t some people need that liquid courage just to go under the needle to begin with?”
“It’s not recommended,” I said. “And it’s shop policy. Drunk people aren’t very good at holding still, and if you’re squirming around while I’m trying to ink you, it’s not going to come out very good. Which is a reflection of my own work, and I actually do take my work seriously.”
“That’s very noble of you.” She gave me a coy look. “So, am I to believe that you are actually going to deny us service? Isn’t the customer always right?”
“Uh, no, actually. I’d say eighty-five percent of the time, the customer is probably wrong.”
“Some businessman you are.” Tara sniffed. “Fine, I guess we’ll just have to go elsewhere. Come on, Chloe.”
Chloe followed her out, but not before she looked back at me with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry for ...” she paused. “I’m sorry,” she said, and then she stepped over the threshold and the door closed.
Todd stared at them until they were out of sight and then turned to me. “I can’t believe you just threw paying customers out of your store. Have you gone blind? Those girls were hot! You’re a fool!”
“I’m not tattooing drunk people; I don’t care how hot they are.”
“You totally ruined their night. Those types of girls aren’t used to people not catering to their every whim.”
“And what type would that be? I like how you’re talking about them as though you actually know them.”
Todd waved me off. “Come on, Graham. You know exactly the type: rich and entitled and here for the summer. They’re usually the fun ones you can get into some good no-strings-attached scenarios with.”
“Feel free to go chase after them, then; I’m not stopping you. It might make you feel better about being stood up.”
For a moment, it looked like he was considering it. But then he shook his head. “Better not,” he said. “The way my luck is going tonight, they’d probably both turn me down. Or, they wouldn’t turn me down but I’d get a raging case of gonorrhea or something. Can you just close this shit up? I need a drink. But if those girls come back again, you better believe I’m going to go for it.”
“Sure you will,” I said, fully expecting to never see either of those girls again.