Glenda's been bugging me to take her to some tattoo place out of town.
I was kind of antsy about this, so I asked if we could check out the
ones in old E'ville. I got out the phonebook, and found a few that
didn't sound too funky. We headed out and into my incredibly warm car,
then onto the bank for loads o'moola. Well, a minor load. Then we went
to a drugstore for Listerine and some other oral wound medicine stuff
that I can't remember the name of right now.
Then it was
off to find the parlor/shop. Finally, we found it. We went inside
and the first thing I saw was this older-than-my-mom lady, a heavily
tattoo-ed guy, and a little girl watching the Batman cartoon. It was
all very homey. Well, homey if your house is wallpapered with tattoo
patterns.
We waited a bit and then this guy came upstairs. Apparently, he was
the piercer. He led us down into the "Dungeon", and into this little
room. Glenda filled out some paperwork, swished some of his Listerine
for an ungodly period of time, and then leaned back into his chair.
He gave her a towel to hold under her chin. Then he got out a purple
marker to mark dots where the needle was to go.