Black Ink
It's Like A Bad Movie
Dr. Jones smiled wide, from the tall wooden podium on the small stage our college has. Behind him, heavy red curtains where draped open, revealing a big 'Class Of 2010' ice sculpture, and pictures of the graduates. Some drawing, others just hanging out, theirs even one picture of Hannah tattooing. But my eye focus on nothing but the small wooden table beside Dr.Jones.
12 graduates.
12 diplomas.
And one, just on has my name on it. Lexi Donald.
Dr.Jones's speech seems to drag on forever. Talking of the ups and downs of this years class. How it was a challenge, yet a privilege to teach us all. For the first time in awhile, I actually take in all of Dr.Jones's features.
He looks out of place, with all of us. Tattooed and pierced. Some of us with crazy hair colors, other crazy hair styles. But then there is Dr.Jones, a short plump man. Clean of tattoos, but a scar under his lip were a ring used to be. Bald and wearing a tuxedo, he looks like an normal 52 year old man. Not a tattoo artist.
Finally, with all laughing and joking aside, the graduates including myself, are asked to line up at the stage to get our diplomas. I stood and straightened my dress, skipping to my best friend Chloe, to make sure my 'Of Mice&Men' plugs were straight. Ever since I found that bad, they've done so many great things for me, including now, Austin and Alan's tattoos inspired me to get a career in tattooing. And I know I'll never regret it.
"We're sorry Miss. Donald. But this will be your second week in a row not paying for your space, we hate to say it but if you don't pay both rents this time around, we'll have to get you to leave. And sell the apartment off." Ms. Chow, my land lord spoke to me from out side of my door.
I glanced back at Chloe, who came to the door. Dealing with Ms.Chow was always her responsibility, Ms.Chow seemed to love Chloe, sense Chloe was well... Nice. I wasn't, I was hostel and always for some reason rather rude. I never understood it, but my therapist says it's repressed anger. I think thats a crock of bullshit. I know exactly what it is. People suck.
"She's gone." Chloe said coming in from the door way, taking her spot back on the couch.
"Cool. Hey, I'm running into the shop early. I figured, sense I am the owner I can't really leave the employees to do everything. Especially planning that fundraiser. Wanna come?" I asked grabbing my keys, swinging them around my finger.
"Nahhh. I hate planning. But I have an appointment at 4, with some Alan guy, you can fill me in on the details then, yeah?" My heart stopped a little, being the fangirl I am, when I hear names that relate to bands -especially my favorite band- I tend to get a little to excited.
"Alan?! Alan who!? Is his last name Ashby?! Does he have ginger hair?!" I squealed, my words coming out as on sentence.
"No Lexi, his name is Alan Dereks." I bowed my head disappointing. Grabbing an apple, I left.
The walk from the apartment is only 15 minutes, but that 15 minutes is always filled with the same depressing thoughts. Like, why I can't pay bills, or the fact I own a tattoo shop on the verge of bankrupt. If this doesn't work, I'm either gonna have to step done from a shop owner to a shop worker. Which is embarrassing. Or live in a box, which is embarrassing.
I pulled open the door to 'Blank Ink' my tattoo shop, to see a client being tattooed and a ginger one in a red beanie waiting to be assisted. 'Hmm, must be Chloe's client' I think to myself.
I throw my apple out, and start making my way back to the stereo. This is my favorite part of the job, I own this place, so I can play whatever music I want, and people can't say shit about it or I'll fire them. Today I'm in the mood for some 'Motionless In White'.
I head into the small back office. The smell of ink, blood, and coffee attacks my nostrils. My favorite smell, as disgusting as it may be. The clock reads 3:37pm, Chloe will be in anytime now, and the fundraiser meeting is about to start.
"Hey." Mitchelle, a worker of mine says from the doorway. Followed by him is Jude and Tom, other workers.
This will be a long meeting.
12 graduates.
12 diplomas.
And one, just on has my name on it. Lexi Donald.
Dr.Jones's speech seems to drag on forever. Talking of the ups and downs of this years class. How it was a challenge, yet a privilege to teach us all. For the first time in awhile, I actually take in all of Dr.Jones's features.
He looks out of place, with all of us. Tattooed and pierced. Some of us with crazy hair colors, other crazy hair styles. But then there is Dr.Jones, a short plump man. Clean of tattoos, but a scar under his lip were a ring used to be. Bald and wearing a tuxedo, he looks like an normal 52 year old man. Not a tattoo artist.
Finally, with all laughing and joking aside, the graduates including myself, are asked to line up at the stage to get our diplomas. I stood and straightened my dress, skipping to my best friend Chloe, to make sure my 'Of Mice&Men' plugs were straight. Ever since I found that bad, they've done so many great things for me, including now, Austin and Alan's tattoos inspired me to get a career in tattooing. And I know I'll never regret it.
"We're sorry Miss. Donald. But this will be your second week in a row not paying for your space, we hate to say it but if you don't pay both rents this time around, we'll have to get you to leave. And sell the apartment off." Ms. Chow, my land lord spoke to me from out side of my door.
I glanced back at Chloe, who came to the door. Dealing with Ms.Chow was always her responsibility, Ms.Chow seemed to love Chloe, sense Chloe was well... Nice. I wasn't, I was hostel and always for some reason rather rude. I never understood it, but my therapist says it's repressed anger. I think thats a crock of bullshit. I know exactly what it is. People suck.
"She's gone." Chloe said coming in from the door way, taking her spot back on the couch.
"Cool. Hey, I'm running into the shop early. I figured, sense I am the owner I can't really leave the employees to do everything. Especially planning that fundraiser. Wanna come?" I asked grabbing my keys, swinging them around my finger.
"Nahhh. I hate planning. But I have an appointment at 4, with some Alan guy, you can fill me in on the details then, yeah?" My heart stopped a little, being the fangirl I am, when I hear names that relate to bands -especially my favorite band- I tend to get a little to excited.
"Alan?! Alan who!? Is his last name Ashby?! Does he have ginger hair?!" I squealed, my words coming out as on sentence.
"No Lexi, his name is Alan Dereks." I bowed my head disappointing. Grabbing an apple, I left.
The walk from the apartment is only 15 minutes, but that 15 minutes is always filled with the same depressing thoughts. Like, why I can't pay bills, or the fact I own a tattoo shop on the verge of bankrupt. If this doesn't work, I'm either gonna have to step done from a shop owner to a shop worker. Which is embarrassing. Or live in a box, which is embarrassing.
I pulled open the door to 'Blank Ink' my tattoo shop, to see a client being tattooed and a ginger one in a red beanie waiting to be assisted. 'Hmm, must be Chloe's client' I think to myself.
I throw my apple out, and start making my way back to the stereo. This is my favorite part of the job, I own this place, so I can play whatever music I want, and people can't say shit about it or I'll fire them. Today I'm in the mood for some 'Motionless In White'.
I head into the small back office. The smell of ink, blood, and coffee attacks my nostrils. My favorite smell, as disgusting as it may be. The clock reads 3:37pm, Chloe will be in anytime now, and the fundraiser meeting is about to start.
"Hey." Mitchelle, a worker of mine says from the doorway. Followed by him is Jude and Tom, other workers.
This will be a long meeting.
10/6/13