Page 126 of Fervency Love

He shakes his head in disbelief and waves his hand in a submissive gesture.

“There’s a tattoo studio. Let’s go inside, ask around.”

I enter a dark room. A tattooed girl raises her head from above a newspaper, looking at us quizzically, chewing gum.

“Can I help you?” she asks finally, annoyed that we’ve interrupted her reading.

“I would like to get a tattoo.”

“Right. Did you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Do you want to make one?”

“Will it work out today?” I ask, slightly confused by her threatening, dismissive tone. She leans over her notebook, running her black fingernails over it, and then, without looking up, replies, “Maybe. What are you interested in?”

“I want some shape on the lower back. What’s the price?”

“Depends on the size. Three to five hundred. Dave is going to be free in an hour.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say and leave.

“Fucking hell, Gail, think this through. Aren’t you scared of that place?”

“No more than that girl. She was a bit creepy. Let’s walk around. Maybe I’ll find something cheaper.”

That place gave me the creeps. After about thirty minutes of walking, I finally spot another signboard that says “Tattoo”. I go inside. Several guys are busy tattooing. One breaks away from his work and turns toward us.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks, holding a tattooing device in one hand.

I explain to him what I would like to have. He stands up and hands me an album.

“Browse through. If you like something, we’ll do it. Two hundred and fifty.”

“Can I modify it in some way?”

“What are you thinking?”

“If I chose, for example, this one.” I show the first one that I see. “Could I improve something in it; for example, add color?”

“Sure thing. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”

Ve has a grim face, but he sits down and looks through the album with me. Ten minutes in, I feel I’ve found my tattoo. Add some blue, and it will be perfect.

“I think I got it.”

“Is this equipment disinfected somehow?” Connor asks. There’s concern in his voice.

“Of course, otherwise they would close our salon,” replies the tattooist and turns to me: “Something catch your attention?”

“Yes, I’d like this one, but these points must be blue and shiny.”

“No problem. Ready?”

“Yes!” I answer firmly.

“Then hop on here. I’m Lenny. Lean back on this chair and don’t move.”

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