A true story, but names have been changed to protect the corrupted..
This was to be Jessica's second tattoo.
Her first tattoo was a simple thing she got several months earlier at my hand. She originally wanted a rose on her ankle, but I somewhat gently nudged her into something more interesting. Roses are so horribly hackneyed and trite; almost a default design for a person who knows they want a tattoo, but is not creative enough to think of something original. After some discussion, I inked a lovely orchid into the virgin skin of her ankle.
We began to correspond via email after that. I sensed that she was somewhat fond of me. She claimed that she wanted another tattoo. I expected this. Tattoos are so addictive that I have been accused of putting heroin in my inks. I also sensed that she wanted to try to spend a little more time in close proximity to me. I set up an appointment for her, the last of that evening, but even after some discussion, she did not have a design in mind.
She arrived a little early, and smiled sheepishly as I walked into the lobby area.
"Hey Jessica," I said, greeting her, "let's take a look at how that orchid turned out."
When I can, I like to inspect my work after it is healed, to see how the colors took to the skin, and whether it needs any minor touch-ups. She was wearing knee length shorts and low shows, and was obviously showing it off as she walked around town. She held the colors well, and the skin was smooth. She grinned proudly while she held her leg out for inspection.
"Looks great," I said.
"I'm very happy with it," she beamed.
"Well," I said, " do you know what you want for your next one?"
"No," she said, looking a little embarrassed.
I nodded, and in fact anticipated this. I already had a plan.
"Well," I said, "if you want some more work, but don't know what you want, let me come up with something or you."
"Okay," she said eagerly, "what do you have ready?"
"That's the catch," I said, "I get to choose what and where."
