Page 20 of Truck Off
That leaves me stuck working for my lazy ass boss, Rob, at the cheesiest tattoo parlor in existence. At least my chair rental is cheap.
I work solely on commission. He doesn’t pay his artists an hourly wage. Instead, we get paid per tattoo. We keep sixty percent of the fee, plus tip. Rob takes forty percent plus the rental cost of the chair and booth. That also means I’m responsible for buying my own gun and inks.
It’s not ideal, but it’s the only option I’ve got. Rob knows it too, which is why he can stick us with any charges and fees he wants.
Lately, I’ve struggled with my ink supply. It’s not that expensive, but money has been so tight, I can’t afford to replenish my stock. I figure I have about two weeks’ worth left of supply before I have to order more.
Trying to budget for supplies is just as hard as budgeting for groceries. My financial woes are a never-ending battle, and it’s one I’m beginning to think I’ll never conquer.
Thankfully, my car didn’t give me any trouble today. She started on the first try. One less thing I have stressing me out at the moment. Lord knows I need a break.
I pull into the back of the parking lot of the strip mall where Country Ink is located. After shutting off the engine, I stare at the entrance. It’s still early and we’re not open yet.
I love what I do. It’s an art form that brings me an insane amount of joy. I just wish I were running my own shop. What I wouldn’t do to call the shots in my career.
I close my eyes and let myself picture a different reality. One where life is good, and I don’t have any struggles. I can see it so clearly. In big bold letters above the entrance, the words, Beyond Ink, light up the night sky. My shop. A place that helps people tell a story with their tattoos.
No more silly hearts or flowers or butterflies that some newly turned eighteen girl comes in to get just to rebel against Mom and Dad. No more give me whatever is cheapest because I lost a bet. And no more lazy bosses like Rob who kill the passion behind the art of tattoos.
It would be nothing but custom work. Tattoos are so much more than ink on the body. They tell a story, are meaningful, and should bring the wearer joy for a lifetime. That’s the kind of shop I’d run. That’s the meaning behind Beyond Ink.
I open my eyes and stare at the sign for Country Ink. A heavy sigh escapes me.
“Keep dreaming, Lina,” I mumble as I grab my purse and head inside.
It seems dreams are the only thing I have these days. I should really focus on the positive. At least I have dreams. Some people don’t even have those.
A slow smile tugs at my lips as I remind myself of my date this evening. I’ve dreamed of what it’d be like if Christian Mutter ever asked me out. That’s something I never thought would happen, and tonight I get to find out.
“Focus on the positive, Lina. Always the positive,” I say under my breath as I make my way to my chair.
“What was that?” my coworker and friend Felix asks. I look up to see him giving me a funny look. Then his brow furrows. “What’s wrong with you?”
I drop my smile. “Nothing.”
He stares at me for an uncomfortable minute. “I don’t buy it. You were smiling when you walked in.”
“So.” I stuff my purse into my cabinet and pull out my planner. I already know who my first client is, but I pretend to look anyway. “Am I not allowed to smile?”
“Well, yeah.” Felix snorts. “But it’s not something you ever do. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I saw you smile. You’re the queen of bitch face and you know it.”
I flip him off and open my cabinet to get my supplies ready for my first client. My action just makes him laugh, which is exactly what I expected.
I’ve always liked Felix, and we became fast friends when I started working here. He’s worked here twice as long as I have and has a client list to die for. Thanks to his help and mentorship, my client list is improving every day. If I keep focused and continue to listen to his advice, I’ll have a reputation just as good as his.
I’ve come a long way in the five years since I started tattooing. At forty, Felix is ten years older than me and has almost twenty-five years of experience. He started tattooing when he was fifteen.
Despite the difference in our years of experience, I’m still the second-best tattoo artist in a hundred-mile radius. Felix is the first, and I’m damn lucky to train under him.
My clients may come from all over the state just to get a Lina Lange original, but his come from all over the country. He even has a few clients who travel from England just to get a tattoo from him.
That’s the kind of reputation I want, and if I stay focused and listen to his advice, that will be me one day. I’ve got the artistic eye and skill. Now I just need the portfolio to back it up.
Maybe then I can open my own shop. Felix is perfectly content to let someone else manage the shop and make sure the doors stay open. Not me. I want to be my own boss in every sense of the word.
I lift the lid on the storage container for my inks and curse under my breath. Then I look over my shoulder at Rob and call out to him. “Rob! Did you let one of the other artists get into my supplies?”
He looks at me and frowns. “No way. You know I don’t condone that.”