The Never-Ending Ramblings...

A Great Day

So, we never made it to Victoria Secret, but I did get a body part pierced. Lisa wasn’t in the mood for mall shopping. She’s gotten into refurbishing furniture and she wanted to do some thrifting instead. Lunch and coffee were still part of the plan – thank god for caffeine. I wanted a little bit more out of my day than old couches and worn out dressers. I made a few comments.

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Pulling into the parking lot of Beyond Tattoo, I was regretting my two jokes I made about ink – and wanting to get some – more. Would Lisa slap me if I told her I was just teasing? So later, when we DIDN’T get tatts, I could always ask, ‘Why didn’t you go?”

But here we were, sitting inside her Hunter green Ford Explorer, me fumbling through my purse – checking out my cash. Did I even have enough to lay down new ink? As we stepped into the place, I had a brilliant idea, which would save my ass, or I should say - my skin from needles that day.

“How much does it cost to get a touch up?” I asked the guy behind the counter. I already have a tattoo - on my upper right shoulder – of a sun. He’s all smiles. It’s late afternoon and the place is empty. I guess he’s glad to have company. Brandon, the younger guy, his co-worker answers for him.

“That depends.” Like I’m supposed to know on what. He doesn’t offer an explanation so I have to ask.

“On what?” hiding my irritation. He’s wet behind the ears – got a lot to learn. My forgiveness is his today.

“Well, “ he tilts his head back, half closes his eyes. Thinking this time a day must not be required too often. “On the size. Or, if you got it here. Cuz if you got it here, touch ups are free.”

“I got it here.” I say. They both glance at me. They aren’t sure. Maybe the ‘free’ word prompted my response. “I did.” I’m defensive.

“Okay,” says the older guy. He’s got the physical features of Latin decent. His name’s Oscar. “ What’s the guys name who gave you the tattoo?” Do I sense a smirk? Or is that just me?

“I don’t know.” I say. Now I’m the one half closing my eyes, conjuring up an image of MY tattoo artist. Did he mention his name? Oh my God. That was several years ago. I can’t remember. Are tatt artists like sex partners? You’re supposed to remember their names?
Oscar and Brandon are throwing names at me. None of which are ringing bells. I give a quick description and finally, they both agree it must be ????(I can’t even remember what they said. Why am I blocking?)

Oscar says my tatt still looks pretty good, I could wait on the touch up. Soooo, not wanting to waste a trip to Beyond Tattoo, I decide to get my right ear cartilage pierced. I’ve had it done before but it closed up when I took the damn ring our for an MRI.

Lisa makes jokes while I'm sitting in the chair. Brandon gets to do the honors. I tell him he did my navel ring. He doesn't remember me. Gee thanks. More jokes from Lisa.

Sisterhood bonding is the ultimate.