Inked Memories (Dedicated to Ri), chapter 2
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Weeks turned into months, and I carried on working at Skin Art. I loved it. I drew every tattoo with as much passion as the last. Never did I lose any interest in my re-found career; it brought back all the happy memories of my past. Gradually, all the bad memories that had haunted me were flushed away. Not forgotten, but merely placed at the back of my mind, allowing my conscience to ease. There was one day, though, that still remains fresh in my mind, and it was that day, which changed my life forever.
It was in the middle of June. We had had waves of customers each wanting a tattoo done by the award winning tattooists of Oakland, California. I had my favourite Green Day CD, 1,039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hours blaring out of the stereo and a copy of "Guitarist's World" on my lap. I was in the middle of reading an interview with Billie Joe Armstrong-front man, lead guitarist and vocalist of Green Day, also, my dream heart-throb-when Tim walked up and handed me a mug of coffee.
"Man," I said in a southern accent. "I loooooove the cwoffee!"
Tim stared back and raised one pierced eyebrow.
"It's like, a drug to me, you know," I continued in my own alto voice. "I just can't get enough of it."
"Well, this may be new to you, Ri," Tim started, now with both pierced eyebrows raised, "but, caffeine IS a drug-it can be highly addictive."
Tim had called me "Ri" from day one. My real name is Riona, but Tim said he preferred Ri. He said it was short, simple, and sweet and that, I guess, was who I became. I was no longer Riona but Ri.
At that last comment, I gulped down half the mug's contents at once and let out a satisfied sigh.
"As we see here in subject B," he added, pointing at me.
We both were in hysterics. I literally doubled over! I loved days like this. Sure we goofed off, but we maintained the high standard of work we promised to our customers. Just like Tim always said:
"We work hard, we play hard."
I finished off the coffee just in time to see Tim snatch the magazine from my lap.
"Hey!" I yelled; if there was one thing I didn't like was people touching my stuff, especially if it's something to do with Green Day.
"Woah! Calm down, dearie!" he exclaimed. "I'm just lookin' at my cousin, that's all."
My heart stopped. Was he serious? I mean, Tim liked to joke. Tim LOVED to joke; he always got me, I was always too gullible. I just looked at him straight and muttered,
"Whatever, just gimme back the magazine, you're gonna rip it!"
He stood still. He stared. Not a flicker in his eye. Not a kink in his mouth. His facial muscles, motionless.
"Holy shit. You are really telling the truth, aren't you?"
"I can't believe you thought I would lie about something like this!" He sounded hurt.
I just didn't know what to say, I stood there with my mouth hanging open like I had been slapped with a dead fish.
"I just thought you would be interested, because he was coming in tomorrow for another tattoo, and I realised you REALLY like Green Day and have this 'thing' for Billie, so...I was gonna let you tattoo him." He continued, "But I see you're not interested." He began to turn away.
"NO!" I screamed. I just couldn't let my chance slip away.
He slowly turned on his place.
"Oh, really now? Well, I think I deserve an apology, and just then, I MIGHT let you do his tattoo."
'God, he's a sly dog,' I thought.
I turned on my charm, "Tim, I'm really, REALLY sorry for not believing you; I was a total jerk, and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me and let me ink your very sexy cousin, I would be FOREVER grateful."
I prayed.
Slowly, Tim's long face brightened up, and his mouth kinked into his classic, signature-style grin.
"Ri, you know I can't help trying to wind you up! Of course you can sort out Billie! I was only kidding!" And with that, he wrapped his arms around me and gave me the biggest, rib-crushing bear hug I ever received. Thinking about it, a nickname like 'Tiny Tim' would suit him. They'd go excellently with those bulging biceps...
'That was it,' I thought. 'I was finally going to meet Billie Joe.'
I fainted.
It was in the middle of June. We had had waves of customers each wanting a tattoo done by the award winning tattooists of Oakland, California. I had my favourite Green Day CD, 1,039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hours blaring out of the stereo and a copy of "Guitarist's World" on my lap. I was in the middle of reading an interview with Billie Joe Armstrong-front man, lead guitarist and vocalist of Green Day, also, my dream heart-throb-when Tim walked up and handed me a mug of coffee.
"Man," I said in a southern accent. "I loooooove the cwoffee!"
Tim stared back and raised one pierced eyebrow.
"It's like, a drug to me, you know," I continued in my own alto voice. "I just can't get enough of it."
"Well, this may be new to you, Ri," Tim started, now with both pierced eyebrows raised, "but, caffeine IS a drug-it can be highly addictive."
Tim had called me "Ri" from day one. My real name is Riona, but Tim said he preferred Ri. He said it was short, simple, and sweet and that, I guess, was who I became. I was no longer Riona but Ri.
At that last comment, I gulped down half the mug's contents at once and let out a satisfied sigh.
"As we see here in subject B," he added, pointing at me.
We both were in hysterics. I literally doubled over! I loved days like this. Sure we goofed off, but we maintained the high standard of work we promised to our customers. Just like Tim always said:
"We work hard, we play hard."
I finished off the coffee just in time to see Tim snatch the magazine from my lap.
"Hey!" I yelled; if there was one thing I didn't like was people touching my stuff, especially if it's something to do with Green Day.
"Woah! Calm down, dearie!" he exclaimed. "I'm just lookin' at my cousin, that's all."
My heart stopped. Was he serious? I mean, Tim liked to joke. Tim LOVED to joke; he always got me, I was always too gullible. I just looked at him straight and muttered,
"Whatever, just gimme back the magazine, you're gonna rip it!"
He stood still. He stared. Not a flicker in his eye. Not a kink in his mouth. His facial muscles, motionless.
"Holy shit. You are really telling the truth, aren't you?"
"I can't believe you thought I would lie about something like this!" He sounded hurt.
I just didn't know what to say, I stood there with my mouth hanging open like I had been slapped with a dead fish.
"I just thought you would be interested, because he was coming in tomorrow for another tattoo, and I realised you REALLY like Green Day and have this 'thing' for Billie, so...I was gonna let you tattoo him." He continued, "But I see you're not interested." He began to turn away.
"NO!" I screamed. I just couldn't let my chance slip away.
He slowly turned on his place.
"Oh, really now? Well, I think I deserve an apology, and just then, I MIGHT let you do his tattoo."
'God, he's a sly dog,' I thought.
I turned on my charm, "Tim, I'm really, REALLY sorry for not believing you; I was a total jerk, and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me and let me ink your very sexy cousin, I would be FOREVER grateful."
I prayed.
Slowly, Tim's long face brightened up, and his mouth kinked into his classic, signature-style grin.
"Ri, you know I can't help trying to wind you up! Of course you can sort out Billie! I was only kidding!" And with that, he wrapped his arms around me and gave me the biggest, rib-crushing bear hug I ever received. Thinking about it, a nickname like 'Tiny Tim' would suit him. They'd go excellently with those bulging biceps...
'That was it,' I thought. 'I was finally going to meet Billie Joe.'
I fainted.
