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“You just seem a tad nervous, but don’t worry. I’ve had plenty of first timers,” I reassure her. “So what are you here for?”
“My mom just passed away suddenly, so I wanted to get something to commemorate her.” She pulls out her phone and shows me an array of roses and a clock in the middle. “Roses were her favorite.”
“This is awesome, I’d have to draw it up in my style but that shouldn’t take me too long. Would you like to listen to some music?”
“Sure.” She nods. Thankfully I had thought to bring my 12Bluetooth speaker with me. I connect to Spotify and let her pick the music while I grab my iPad and start working on her design. I lean against the counter, knowing I’ll be sitting for most of the tattoo.
“Something like this?” I say when I’m done with her design. I’ve added my own flair to the design and her eyes light up, knowing I’ve gotten exactly what she wants.
“Yes! Oh my gosh, my mother would love that!” She smiles and then starts to cry.
“I’m so sorry, it comes in waves. I’m fine and then suddenly I’m not.” I reach for the box of tissues and let her pull a few out as she wipes her eyes and blows her nose.
“It’s okay. I lost my dad a few years ago and I still have days like that sometimes. You take your time and if you cry during the tattoo I’ll check in with you, but I’m okay continuing. It can sometimes be more therapeutic for you to let it all out while you’re actually being tattooed,” I explain.
“I’d like that actually, I think it’s just residual grief.” She nods.
“Okay, let’s get started then.” I get the colors mixed and set up the tray with fresh gloves, Vaseline, and all the things I may need for her tattoo. I grab my own gun from my bag and put in a fresh needle.
As I’m prepping everything, she puts her legs on the chair and gives me her arm to prep. I shave the spot she wants it in, wipe it with rubbing alcohol, and look to her to make sure she’s ready. “You all set?”
“Yes.” She nods and takes a deep breath. She’s fiddling with finding music she wants to listen to and I get started. I can feel her tense when I put the needle to her skin, but she handles it well. She’s tense but she’s trying to calm herself down which is the most I can ask for. When she finally decides on music, she closes her eyes, and she’s so calm that I thought she might be sleeping. It turns out she is just zoning out into the music.
About halfway through the tattoo, she opens her eyes to look and that’s when the tears return. I stop for a few minutes until she asks me to continue, and with a breath, her eyes close again and I finish up. She does better than expected during the shading and coloring. I half expected her to cry or wince but she handles it like a champ. When we’re all done, she looks at it and pulls me in for a hug. It’s not the first time I’ve had a client hug me, but it is the first time in a while, and it startles me.
“I’m so sorry! I just love it so much,” she says with tears brimming in her eyes.
“No worries, I’m glad you like it so much.” I smile. “Can I grab some pictures of it for Instagram?”
“Of course!” She nods eagerly. I move her arm so I can see the full tattoo and snap a few pictures of it. I tag Rainy Day Tattoos and post the picture to my Instagram with the caption, new adventures.
“You can see Addison in the front to handle payment,” I say after I wrap up her arm.
“Got it. Thank you so much.” Robin smiles, staring at her wrapped arm. It is nice to see such a happy client, especially one who is clearly grieving.
I clean up as Robin pays and Addison knocks on the door a few minutes later. She hands me a wad of cash, telling me it is my tip from Robin.
“The tattoo was beautiful,” Addison adds.
“Thanks.” I smile. It is nice to get complimented by another artist.
“I have one more waiting for you, if you have time.”
“Send ‘em in.”
Addison goes to get the next client, and I start prepping my space for them. The next few tattoos go by in a blur, one client after another once I’ve got the hang of things. I stop at some point for a sandwich we have delivered and a pee break, but otherwise I’m handling the walk ins today. I can’t tell if it is just a busy day or if Addison is testing me, but I think I handle each client well. I make sure everyone is happy when they’re leaving and I give them my Instagram to follow me or book another appointment. A few say they’ll be back, and I can tell it’s not just them being polite but they actually mean it.
By the time it’s closing time, I’m exhausted but I don’t let on when Addison knocks on the door. I’m slipping my hand into a carpal tunnel brace and her eyes widen.
“Are you okay?”
“Purely preventative. I like to make sure I’m not going to be out of commission,” I explain.
“Thank goodness, because you’re already booked solid for tomorrow. I had a bunch of call ins and it’s Lynn’s day off. Think you can handle it?”
“Definitely.” I smile. For the first time in a long ass time, I am enjoying my job again. Remembering why I got into the business of tattooing people to begin with. It is more than just a job to me, it is a way of connecting with people. And helping people to heal in their own way.
CHAPTER3
