Today one of my regulars came in and stopped for a flirt. I mentioned a text I had gotten about a fourth of July party at the tattoo studio. He took out his phone and confirmed that there would be a party. He has a piece across his entire chest that is in progress.
While standing in front of me, he made an apointment for tomorrow to get some work done on it.
I got off work and went out to check out the party. Cute young blondes with brand new back pieces and hip pieces were running around showing off the fact that they don't wear underwear and yes, they DO shave that kitty.
I had the Inkslinger walk me to my car so I could chat without an audience.
I asked if he could get me in to work on my leg. He said no, he was WAY too busy with the contest pieces he's doing for nationals to do anything else but those until after the fourteenth. Lie number...oh I've lost count.
I told him "Look. If you don't want to make time for me, you need to just get some balls and say so. I need to be looking for someone else."
"Oh no! Don't you dare. You let anyone else touch it I will never speak to you again!"
"You don't speak to me now! I have been waiting a really long time and I'm losing my patience."
So he makes some placating noises and then runs away back inside to his little fake tan blondes.
As I'm turning to get in my car I shake my head with absolute certainty. This is the last time I will see this tattoo shop.
I'm tempted to leave this tattoo as it is for one very good reason. Every single time I want to wear a dress or skirt or shorts, I get reminded that the sort of men who find me remotely interesting are liars. Trusting them is stupid. I'm better off alone.



