The music was so loud it wasn’t a surprise that Blake and Slim didn’t hear what was going on. “Let me see if I can get him.” Years of mottos that highlighted “The customer is always right” was engraved into me. I took a deep breath and nodded, pushing away from my chair. “I'm sorry but we really can't-,” I tried to explain to him. Now,” the guy slurred, smacking his lips so roughly spittle flew out. "I'm sorry, but we can't help you if you've been drinking.” Even if both Slim and Blake weren't busy and Dex had come out from the back, he still couldn't get tattooed. I gave him a little smile without looking at the appointment log. It was disgusting and it made my nose burn.īut this was my job and everyone had been nice up until then, so I didn’t think anything of it. A man with a full beard and glassy, red-rimmed eyes, who smelled like rubbing alcohol. I looked over at the man standing in front of the reception desk.
In my quest to keep being a bitch because my feelings had been hurt, I stayed up front. In hindsight, I should have just gone to the back and lived with a tongue lashing from Dex for simply living so that I could order supplies for the month instead of staying in the front, talking to a customer’s girlfriend about getting her nose pierced.
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