It’s started. Already. I’m gettin’ the calls for St. Patrick’s Day ink requests and I’ll be the only one workin’. Man, I hate that day. Now, don’t go thinking I got a problem with the Irish, or those that think they’re Irish, or those that wish they could think they’re Irish. I don’t. I just don’t wanna have to do any fuckin’ four leaf clovers.
I swear, as soon as New Years is over, every fucker who wants a tat suddenly decides he’s fuckin’ Irish. The closer to March 17, the more likely it is the dude’ll be too pissed to see straight, demanding I give ’em a shamrock on the balls or somethin’. Try tellin’ a drunk fuck you can’t do his ink because his blood’s thin and he’ll bleed all over the fuckin’ floor. The next thing you know, you’re rollin’ on the tiles as the dickhead screams about you denyin’ his heritage. Then, there’s blood on the floor anyways. And it sure as shit ain’t mine. Still don’t make it any more fun to clean up.
I tried switchin’ shifts early this year, but Trey’s already planned to be drunk in anticipation of sitting his black ass down and celebrating his “Irish” heritage proper, and my boss is the one who handed me the shit gig in the first place. So it’s gonna be me and the piercing chick (whatever her name is, piercing chick #7, I guess; they come and go like there’s a revolvin’ door) and I don’t think she’s gonna be much help.
I’m gonna tell ’em they gotta take a breathalyzer test by law and the machine’s broke.
I’m gonna lock the fucking door and make ’em show me what they want before I let ’em in.
I’m gonna tell ’em I’m out of green ink.
Fuck it. I’m gonna do the four leaf clovers. I’m just gonna charge ’em triple. They’ll all be too wasted to notice.
So, call to check my schedule. I’ll give you a discount if you don’t want nothin’ Irish (no shamrocks, no Celtic, druid or pagan crap, no leprechauns, not even one of those ugly ass setter dogs).
If want any of the above, you’d best be ready to pay, and feel some pain.
Now that I’ve got y’all all worked up, Avery wanted me to tell y’all that she’s got some book or nother coming out on Thursday. Tells me it’s got some familiar people in it, whatever that means. I don’t read much, but I guess y’all might. So, there ya go. I told ya about it. You’ve been given official notice, so don’t let her give me shit about it, later.