But it’s not like I’m hurting for money. And Ilovegetting tattoos. Almost more than I lovecoffee.Almost.
The phone rings once, twice, then a third time. I’m reasonably sure that no one is going to answer when suddenly someonedoes.
“Hello?”The male voice on the other end doesn’t sound exactly thrilled I’ve called, and it gives me a second of pause.
“Ashe, I swear to fuck,” the man sighs. “If this is you-”
“I was hoping to…make an appointment. For a tattoo,” I say in a rush, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.
“Oh. Uh, we’re kind of booked up for a bit. Do you mind waiting for a few weeks? Or a month. Or…two?” He sounds bored as if he really doesn’t care one way or the other if I come in or not.
“Uhhhh.” I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to come off as rude, though I’m not sure why I care. “Yeah, okay. I don’t mind.”
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Ari–Arista Verlice,” I reply and kick myself because he doesn’t need my full name to put me on a waiting list. Ari Verlice would’ve been fine.
He pauses, and I hear the sound of pages being flipped close to the phone. “Look, umm.” He lets out a sigh, and I can imagine him rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I know what I just said. But I didn’t know I had someone cancel on me for this Friday.”
That’s really soon, considering it’s already Tuesday.
“Would you want to come in?”
“Damn. Wow, that’s really fast, huh?” I can’t help but blurt out the words. “I’m honestly not sure what I want. Maybe I should wait?”
“You can just text the number you’re calling,” the man assures me. “Once you figure that out. Or if you don’t, we can talk it out when you get here. It’s no stress.”
He’s so much nicer to me than he was a few minutes ago that it’s almost like someone else is on the phone. I consider saying no, because this is kind of a weird call, and I’m not sure how I feel about the one-eighty, but I pause with my lips parted, a refusal on my tongue.
I should do something formyself.
And if I don’t do this now, it’ll be months before I get a tattoo, probably. Especially with the way I’m putting things off as of late.
“Okay,” I say, though I’m still only half sure of my words. “Yeah, let’s do it. No idea what I want, but I’ll text you once I havesomekind of idea.” I can’t help the snort in my words, though it’s at my own cluelessness rather than anything he’s said. “Thanks for having an opening? Sorry someone else canceled, but I’m glad to take the spot.”
“Don’t thank me.” He sighs the words. “Just think about what you want. And I’ll see you Friday at six p.m.”
“Isn’t that kind of–” the line goes dead, and I pull my phone from my ear, frowning. “Late?” I finish lamely, even though there’s no one to really ask now.
Oh well. It’s not like I have a bedtime anyway.