VTMAS No.54: Put It Here Tattoo

This is a section of my life I don’t think I have introduced just yet in my “Val Tell Me A Story” Series. For a good year or so I apprenticed at a Tattoo Shop. It was a good night-time gig and on occasion I got paid for roughing out custom artwork or tattoo designs. Plus, I had been offered the apprenticeship and didn’t have to pay to be there like I’ve heard so many others having to do.

On this particular night I was shadowing the artist Keith who was giving me the rundown on colors as he finished coloration on a leg tattoo. Unknown to us, our boss Jerry had left the front desk when two very in-charge regulars came in the door. Suddenly, two very ginormous women bulldozed through the door where we were.

You have to understand, we are talking about two 500-pound women, one with a buzz cut sporting a rat tail and the other a bleached out, roots showing mullet. Yes, this was a couple and I am positive they were always drunk or on something when they came in, and never did they present money in order to give them an actual tattoo the whole time I was there. They were literally the regulars who never got a tattoo but harassed us at least once a week with absurd concepts and locations for that supposed future tattoo.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Keith immediately had pulled away from the customer, setting his machine down. “You can’t barge into a room like that! JERRY!”

“But, I want you to take a look at my girl…” Liquor rolled from the breath of the buzzcut rat-tailed woman. “I wanna know how much it’ll cost for a tat.”

“Um, you’ll have to wait up front for Jerry…” I was trying not to laugh. “He should have been up front.”

“There was no one up front.” Snapped the bleach blonde mullet girl, sneering at me.

“Val,” Keith had turned to me. “Go find Jerry and keep them from… bar…ging… why are you making that face?”

Behind Keith, unknown to him, the mullet lady had spun around and dropped her pants. Much to my dismay, it became very clear she was going commando as my eyebrows lifted in surprise at the unwanted falling of her jeans to the floor.A humongous white ass cheek lit the room up, the fluorescent lights reflecting off it in a eye-searing manner. Me and his customer were shocked and cringing, possibly turning green in the face.

He turned back, flinching before started flailing his arms shouting, “Jesus! Its like a giant f***ing golf ball coming at me!”

I died laughing!

Needless to say, that was more than enough to piss them off. They marched out of the shop, passing my boss in the parking lot and squealing their tires on the way out of the shopping center. As I followed them out, Jerry was coming back in from the gas station.

Confused, he pointed at the door, referring to the ladies, “When did they get here?”

“Apparently while you were out.” I crossed my arms, giving him a scolding expression. “And so they decided to just barge in on Keith mid-tattoo back there.”

“No shit?” Jerry rubbed his forehead. “Is everything ok?”

“Yea…” I smirked, “But Keith will be having nightmares about golf balls for weeks after seeing a white ass with that many dimples at close range.”

“Nooooo!” Jerry gasped, rushing to the back to confirm what happened.

Always some fun stuff happening in a tattoo shop!

Image from Pixabay.com by “TBIT”:  https://pixabay.com/en/golf-ball-golf-ball-abstract-946439/

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