Lillianah
I found pleasure in the pain that tattooing brought to me. I had been shutting out Aaron night and night again, to the point that he hasn't knocked in a week. Feeling the needle drag along my rib cage was fixing my sexual frustration. Alicia was on the second day, and sixth hour working on my tattoo. It looked like a vintage rod iron fence with a beautiful fleur-de-lis resting on it sideways. Even though I couldn't really see it, I could tell it was turning in to that stunning black and white tattoo I had imagined.
Alicia was a rock star, she pushed through it and finished my tattoo with a hour to spare before I had to head to work. I jumped up from the bed and jogged to the mirror. My skin was raised and red, and bleeding, but through it all I saw a beautiful tattoo and I couldn't wait to start showing it off at work. "Damn Alicia, I wish I had half the artistic skills you have," I laughed still starring at myself in the mirror. "You better get going or you'll be late for work," she laughed as she wrapped me up with seran wrap. I pulled my jacket on, gave her a hug and made my way home.
"Hey stranger," I turned around to see Aaron walking behind me. "Hi Aaron, how are you?" "Lonely," he laughed as we walked through the front door of our building. "Did you get a boyfriend or something?" I looked at him and he was being serious. "No, I've just been super busy lately, and it's wearing me out." Please, we all know why I've been avoiding Aaron, and it's that damn uppy French-Canadian. "Oh alright, well you know where to find me whenever, you know," he smiled and winked at me as we went up the stairs in silence.
Speaking of that uppy French-Canadian, it had been four or five days since I last saw him at his place. I probably left him with blue balls, the poor kid. All I knew was that he was on the West coast, and I wish I was too, instead of being stuck in Pittsburgh in the snow. As I walked into my apartment I heard my phone beep, I pulled out my phone to see it was a text message from him. Just thought I'd let you know it's 75 degrees and sunny here in LA. Oh that asshole. Was he just reading my mind? Can we read each other's minds?!
I slipped into a lose fitting, super short jersey dress and pulled on knee high boots. My boss always tells me the higher the heel the better, but because I'm already five foot seven, I don't wear anything over three inches. Five foot ten is where I top out. I pulled on my long trench coat and headed to the club. I really did love my job, and there was nothing else at that point in my life that I wanted to do. Twenty-three years old, no degree, no experience in anything other than mixing music. I was probably happier than most uppy CEO's with a dozen or so degrees.
Alicia was a rock star, she pushed through it and finished my tattoo with a hour to spare before I had to head to work. I jumped up from the bed and jogged to the mirror. My skin was raised and red, and bleeding, but through it all I saw a beautiful tattoo and I couldn't wait to start showing it off at work. "Damn Alicia, I wish I had half the artistic skills you have," I laughed still starring at myself in the mirror. "You better get going or you'll be late for work," she laughed as she wrapped me up with seran wrap. I pulled my jacket on, gave her a hug and made my way home.
"Hey stranger," I turned around to see Aaron walking behind me. "Hi Aaron, how are you?" "Lonely," he laughed as we walked through the front door of our building. "Did you get a boyfriend or something?" I looked at him and he was being serious. "No, I've just been super busy lately, and it's wearing me out." Please, we all know why I've been avoiding Aaron, and it's that damn uppy French-Canadian. "Oh alright, well you know where to find me whenever, you know," he smiled and winked at me as we went up the stairs in silence.
Speaking of that uppy French-Canadian, it had been four or five days since I last saw him at his place. I probably left him with blue balls, the poor kid. All I knew was that he was on the West coast, and I wish I was too, instead of being stuck in Pittsburgh in the snow. As I walked into my apartment I heard my phone beep, I pulled out my phone to see it was a text message from him. Just thought I'd let you know it's 75 degrees and sunny here in LA. Oh that asshole. Was he just reading my mind? Can we read each other's minds?!
I slipped into a lose fitting, super short jersey dress and pulled on knee high boots. My boss always tells me the higher the heel the better, but because I'm already five foot seven, I don't wear anything over three inches. Five foot ten is where I top out. I pulled on my long trench coat and headed to the club. I really did love my job, and there was nothing else at that point in my life that I wanted to do. Twenty-three years old, no degree, no experience in anything other than mixing music. I was probably happier than most uppy CEO's with a dozen or so degrees.
For some reason, I had no control over what music I pulled up that night. I was never one to play songs you hear obsessively on the radio all day long, but that's what I found myself doing. Lots of Kanye West, Rihanna, T.I., Lady Gaga and Beyonce. Half way through the night I checked my phone to see if Alicia was going to be coming down or not, but I saw I had a text message from Max. I opened it up and it was a picture, below his black eye were now a few stitches. Still think I'm a beauty? I laughed to myself and then pulled up a Pussycat Doll song. "Baby won't you take me out of this club, I wanna be with you. Baby let me take you out of this club, I make your dreams come true." I smiled to myself then quickly mixed the song into something else. What the hell was happening to me? Playing sappy music, smiling about a guy, wishing he was here . . . what?! I hiked up my dress a bit and snapped a picture of my legs. Not as beautiful as these babies.
2 comments:
haha I love their flirting back and forth!
i love ur sotry but wtf is a Fleur-De-Lis
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