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I shrug. “Honestly, it’s been a fucking long day, started freaking early… I don’t have a plan…”
He plucks at his hoodie. “So. When can you take us in?”
“You guys… all of you?” I ask innocently. “On one date?”
“Sure.” He grins at the one standing next to him. “It’s supposed to be some really fantabulous ritual. Brotherhood and all. If you know what I mean?”
Unfortunately, I possess more than enough imagination to picture it. Still, I shake my head. Full of feigned regret. “No, unfortunately not at all. The only thing I can offer you would be in…” I continue scrolling through the calendar. “February next year. That’s when I have the first completely free day for you.”
“Next year?” Ferret Face has passed his babysitting duties of the potential arsonist into what I hope will be reliable hands and has reappeared. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to fuck with us? You must have no idea who you’re dealing with here!”
I keep my eyes on the leader, not paying any attention to this annoying man.
“We don’t have to make the appointments with you.” He is surprisingly cooperative and points with two fingers to the row of tattoo compartments. “You do have some employees, and from what I hear, they work just as clean as you do.”
“Thanks for the compliment.” I risk a spare smile and make two or three clicks with my mouse. “But as you can see, it doesn’t look much different for the other tattoo artists.” I don’t waste my time telling him they are not employed by me.
“Could… could you please…” The alpha male corrects himself unexpectedly politely. “…maybe reschedule appointments so one of them has some time for us sooner?” He swallows dryly, clutches the arms of his chair, and leans forward. “Just to please me,” he adds in a half-whisper.
Damnit.It takes great concentration not to smile at the guy’s totally inappropriate humility. Instead, I frown and turn the monitor, which is facing me again, back to him. “See for yourself.” I point to the calendar entries. “That’s hundreds of people, some of whom reserved their appointment months ago and paid a deposit. I can’t snub them. My parlor’s reputation and my financial livelihood depend on it.”
“Did you hear that?” screeches Ferret, addressing the rest of the pack. “That fucking capitalist with his half dozen exploited employees is whining about his financial livelihood! I know why I’ve never signed an employment contract in my life because this is modern slavery! Yes, exactly! In a truly social and just society, all means of production…” With a sweeping motion of both arms, he points to the parlor equipment I’ve saved from my freelance salary and built up in the sweat of my brow. “…would be State-owned, everyone would receive unconditional basic income and could do what they are particularly talented at.”
I ponder for a moment what might be his main talent. Aside from eating an excess of food. Wisely, I hide my thoughts by staring at the computer monitor’s bluish-shimmering display.
The spokesman, at least, seems to have enough brains to sense my predicament. “So, there’s nothing you can do for us?”
“Of course, I can do something for you,” I take the advantage. “I’ll book Friday, February 17 for you right now.” With a few clicks and keystrokes, I put my words into action. “Also, I’ll do it without a deposit…” The word elicits an irritated murmur from the troops. Apparently, they didn’t expect to have to pay anything now. I lean down to my right, open one of the desk drawers and pluck some business cards from the compartments. “…and I have a couple of recommendations for you from colleagues in the greater North Baden/North Wuerttemberg area. Ask there, I can imagine one or the other has an earlier appointment for you.” I can’t help myself: With my middle finger, I push the cards over to him.
He picks them up and examines them. “And these guys are okay? Reliable, technically up to date, and hygienic…?”
I eye his scruffy appearance, which still comes across as halfway acceptable compared to that of his companions, and suppress the urge to clear my throat. “Of course.”
His eyes search my gaze, but immediately avoid it when I counter. He props himself up on the tabletop with both hands and rises, which I mirror. “That sounds reasonable…”
“What?” Ferret Face screeches. “What are you doing? Are you just going to let yourself be sent away like that?”
“I ca—”
“We agreed to get the group tattoos today,” he interrupts the leader again. “At least make an appointment before the end of spring. Now what? Should we just go and wait?”
I can hardly imagine what kind of home such extremists call their own. Nevertheless, I am inclined to agree with him.Yes, please go!
“What else am I supposed to do?” asks the cowed alpha male, and I sigh silently.
They could really continue their discussion outside.
Ferret laughs maliciously. “What do you think?” His sausage fingers whip out a disposable lighter and flare up a thumb-long flame.
Are they all pyromaniacs in disguise? More or rather less?I rein in my breath to control my emotions.
“Surely thered brotherhoodcould light a little fire under some capitalist pig’s ass on occasion?”
Fucking hell!I realize I’m grinding my teeth, straining to keep an unconcerned face. I deliberately ignore this motherfucker, turning to the alpha male. “Is this what you guys want? Set the place on fire over my head?”
“Who says we want that?” interjects Ferret. “You’re forcing our brotherhood to…” He looks around the room theatrically. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Murmurs of agreement rise from all sides of hisbrothers.
