“Callahan is going to lose his mind seeing me in pants,” Eleanor giggled as we left the store and headed toward the tattoo shop.
“Have you thought about what you might want?”
“Like, a tattoo for myself?” She pointed to her chest.
“Yeah? Why not? You can’t be a tattooist without having your own ink.”
She considered my words and reached for my hand. I took it and thread my fingers through hers. I sighed deeply, wishing I could feel her soft skin without the barrier of my bike gloves.
“Maybe.”
We walked into Sketchy Shit and I called for Boogie.
“Boogs, you busy?”
My long-time friend came from the back with a notebook in his hand. He saw us and grinned. “Hey Riot, and… Eleanor, right?”
Eleanor tried to hide behind me but I stepped aside to reveal her.
“Yes,” she said softly.
He went behind the counter and dropped his notebook. “What can I do you two for?”
“She wants a tattoo.”
“What— no! I mean— I don’t know— I…” she stammered.
Boogie laughed. “I see you eyeing the flash art. Sweetie, why don’t you take a look around and see if something catches your eye, then we can think about placement.”
She went to the walls and stared at the sketches. I joined her, commenting on this one or that. “I have that one on my back.” I pointed to the scorpion.
“I saw that last night,” she replied, and pointed. “I kind of like that one.”
It was a gas mask.
“Reminds you of home?”
“A little bit.” She nodded. We went back to Boogie, who’d heard us and had already started drawing it.
“I actually don’t get that design often. How would you feel about a little deviation from the design on the wall?”
Eleanor perked up. “Like, a unique tattoo?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m reinventing the wheel, but, you’ll see.” He told us to wait in the front and he left, returning 20 minutes later with a design. He turned the paper and showed Eleanor. “What do you think?”
The gas mask was pretty standard, but in reflection of the eye shields, you could see giant bomb clouds.
Eleanor gasped. “I love it.”
“Okay, now: location.” Boogie ran her through some options, explaining that certain places hurt more than others, and the best places for her first tattoo. Eventually, she settled on her left thigh.
The entire time we discussed this, she squeezed my hand tight, never letting me go. I led her through the curtains and she kept her hand securely in mine as she took her bottoms off and laid down on the chair.
Boogie put the stencil on and the entire time, he explained the process.
“A lot of the things I do aren’t common practice anymore. Resources are scarce, you know, but my great, great, great grandpa Boogie had his own shop and it feels good to try to replicate his process as much as I can.”
His rattling on relaxed Eleanor. Her grip loosened on some on my fingers.
