Get a Tattoo/Piercing
From Create Your Own Story
This is the morning you will be yourself. For the longest time you've wanted to get a tattoo, or a piercing. Until now you've been a little iffy on the marking decision. With confidence you look at yourself. Your eyes. Your chest. Your crotch.
A hot shower later you step into the clothes you laid on the bed. A thin t-shirt, jeans that have to be held with a belt, and a wool jacket you voted on after seeing the outside temperature is below freezing.
Through the cold morning air, you drive yourself into what you have decided will be the 'new you'.
The tattoo parlor doubles as a place for, exotic piercing, to put it one way. Out where you live however, it serves better as a place teens use show off their rebellion. It has rented a space tucked into a corner around the side of the street everybody has come across. Hidden well enough to avoid being an eyesore for those who would disapprove, but known throughout the community as the only place to get a marking.
Across the empty morning streets you turn into the lot of the tattoo parlor. 'Tomestone' it reads as a sign. The lettering boarders, loops and black patterns as designs made by the artist.
The time on your phone reads "7:55", a mark on the door does not open the doors until "10:00". "Fuck!" You curse out-loud for the world to hear your frustration. By this point you've gotten out of your car to look inside knowing it is futile. With a sigh and frustration you beep your car 'unlocked'. Just as you get in, the door for the parlor opens.
A woman calls out your name, "Joey?" She's squinting her eyes as if to help her see. She steps out of the door way. She walks in flats shoes until she is pressing her hand to your window.
At this point most anyone sane would high tail it if it was a stranger, but you recognize the woman. Alma, she used to be your girlfriend in high school. She's in the graduate year over you, which is why into your senior year, you lost contact. "Hey! Hows it been? I'd think you'd be in college." You've rolled you window down to talk awkwardly. Alma's smile says it all. Her breath turns to frost, "I'm on winter break, and life's been rough..." She ends your sentence as if to say more. You open your mouth to say more but she interrupts, "I'm taking you inside."
Frosty breath turns soft inside the parlor. She led the way inside, and since high school you get a look at her.
Her once blonde hair is blue with highlights. She's thinned out a little bit. Not that she's ever been on the heavy side, she's just noticeably leaner. She's wearing what you'd assume be her night clothes. A thin tank and leggings that hug close. She's changed since high school. Her walk has swagger, her hair bounces with her. Her voice has a demand in it. It's not brash, just grown up.
She takes sit on a leather waiting sofa, you assume you'd sit next to her. Comfortable you talk.
A bath and forth on the past year. Her college life, your farm handiness. And so on. Eventually you begin to suspect something. That she never went to college.
You talk for a while. At a moment you look into your phone, "8:30". "You're waiting for something?" She leans closer onto your shoulder to see your phone. "No, just exited to get this done," Vague, but she picks up on what you said. "You want...?" she's drawing across her breasts. You nod. "I can do them for you." There's a hint of hope in her voice. She stands up and wanders the space between the sofa and the right wall. "I'm doing them here, I'll do them for you." She continues, "Anything in particular?" You think for a second.
