Please Don't Go

SIX

The fight with Sarah lasted only a matter of minutes. She is in much better shape than I first thought, and I was no match for the powerful blows she threw my way. As I walk away from the mat clutching an ice pack to my throbbing eye, she rushes over and begins to apologize profusely for the now forming back eye. I lightly push her away and tell her to stop apologizing. I reassure her multiple times that I am not mad, and it is just a part of initiation. Her worrying does not stop there as she begins to go on and on about how my rank has dropped below the red line and I may not make it in. Again, I try to reassure her that it is alright and that I will get back up above the red line. Swiftly changing the subject, I suggest getting tattoos and she is on board in a heartbeat. Interlacing her arm in mine we begin to skip like happy hippies from amity as we make our way to the tattoo parlor. Of course, we receive a myriad of judgmental glances, but we could not care less.

Walking in the door we are immediately hit with the sound of heavy metal music and the buzz of tattoo machines. The walls are line with glass plates displaying the multitude of designs. Breaking apart from each other we make our way over to the walls and begin to scour the designs. After about fifteen designs I begin to grow frustrated and lose interest in getting a tattoo all together. Right as I am about to turn and find Sarah, I spot something on the back wall that catches my attention. The glass plaque holds a picture of a rose surrounded by geometric shapes that cut the rose into parts. Some parts of the rose have stippling for shading and others are traditionally shaded. I grab the plaque off the wall knowing this is the design I want. Looking around for Sara I see that she is already seated with an artist, so I look around for a free one. Spotting an artist with a head full of locks I walk over to him holding my design close to my chest.

"Excuse me, are you busy?" I ask in a very respectful manner.

"No." He replies without looking up at me.

"Can you do this design for me?" I ask holding the plaque out for him to see.

"Yeah, where do you want it?" He asks taking the design out of my hands.

"On the inside of my right forearm, please." I supply sitting down in his chair.

He just nods in agreement before turning to grab his supplies. Without even warning me he begins to painstakingly draw the outline of the flower with the tiny needles attached to his machine. The pain of the lining is present, but it is not unbearable. I keep my eyes trained on his meticulous movements only scrunching up in pain occasionally. After about an hour he stops to take a break and informs me that if I need a bathroom break, I should take it now. Deciding I do not need one I stay seated and analyze every little detail of the line work. It does not take long for him to return and he smells strongly of cigarette smoke. Quickly switching from lining needles to shading needles he goes to get to work again but I stop him.

"Can I get some color in it?" I ask hoping that I do not piss him off.

"Yeah, sure. What colors?" He asks Fully looking me in the eyes for the first time.

"Um...can I get a greyish lavender purple on the petals and green on the leaves." I Answer after taking a few seconds to think.

Again, he does not verbally reply he just nods his head and begins working. First, he shades all the petals with the black ink informing me that he will go back over with the color. After that is all done, he switches back to the lining needle and begins the stippling. This process is quite painful and leaves me gritting my teeth and trying my hardest not to move. The perfect placement of these dots takes all of an hour and when he is finished, I sigh in relief thinking the worst of it is over. Boy am I wrong, the shading with color over the black leaves me wanting to squirm and yell at him to stop. Noticing my discomfort, he chuckles and asks me if I am hating him yet. I reply with a strained yeah between gritted teeth. Luckily, the torture doesn't last much longer, and I release the breath I was holding as he cleans my new tattoo. Wrapping it in a black bandage he sends me on my way. As I walk to the front, I spot Sarah sporting the same black bandage, but instead of being on her arm it is on her collar bone.