2 Days at the Tattoo Shop

Sherlane, the shop’s counter girl was off sick, so I was asked if I could fill in. Now I don’t have the delightful boobage that she has, but I have been around the shop forever, so I know the ropes.

Tattoo clients for the most part are fairly savvy and mature. The shop has established an exceptional reputation and many of the clients aren’t there for their first little kanji that says “love” on their ankle, or a little maple leaf on their upper arm, but for large pieces. Whole arms, backs, big thigh pieces. They’ve thought it through, it’s nothing new to them.

The majority of clients for piercing however are teenage girls, and if I didn’t know it already, these past two days would have proven to me just how utterly annoying teenage girls are. Having to listen to them talk makes my brain hurt and the pack mentality is particularly freaky.

When they call it’s always to inquire if they can come in to have their nose, navel, nipples, tongue, top of their ear, whatever pierced - RIGHT NOW! When they come in it’s always to inquire if they can have their nose, navel, nipples, tongue, top of their ear, whatever pierced - RIGHT NOW! They seem to regard the whole process the way most people would view a dental emergency. And not a single one of them can come in on her own. They all need to bring an entourage along. One piercee, nine friends. Who seem to act all butt hurt when they’re told only one friend can accompany them in to the the room. Watch the gaggle devolve into complete chaos as they try to decide which friend that should be. When the little stud is in the nostril they all have to squeal “Oh my god! It’s soooo pretty!” in unison and snap cell phone pictures and immediately post it to their Facebook page. And when the shop suddenly gets busy with clients waiting for their tattoo appointments, or those finished and wanting to pay, or people asking questions, or to book appointments, not one of these nine vacant twits will grasp that they’re taking up room and should maybe go across the street to Tim Hortons. Or one will make an appointment and show up with four friends and wonder if they can all be pierced as well, like, right now. I suspect it’s probably a weird combo of peer pressure and mustering up the courage, so if it isn’t done in that tiny window of bravery and a whole bunch of their tittering, Twittering friends there to bolster it, they’ll chicken out. Teenage girls are weird.

But in all, it was a fun two days. I did some image editing for Sarah, some drawings for Jeff, typeset a price list for Yolanda. A pal from high school, Graham, came in to get tattooed by Jen. I knew he was having work done by Jen, and even though we’re in contact, I haven’t actually seen him in years. So it was a very pleasant surprise to see him in the shop when I came in.