Anyway, Miss Molly, this is your fault. It was painful; he was a real estate agent.
Realtor: Hey man, how many tattoos do you have?
Me: (what? you're talking to me? fuck) ... (mumbles something incoherent)
Realtor: Yeah, I go to the shop downtown. I'm thinking of getting a big dragon.
Me: (You mean like as a tattoo, or a pet) ... (mumbles something incoherent)
Realtor: On my chest.
Me: (that doesn't answer the question) ... (mumbles something incoherent)
Then I did that thing I do where I try to drum up business for you... Hope you don't mind doodling dragons on lame dudes' boobs.
And oh yeah, he was fucking naked the entire time.
I told him to go to your website. And to put on pants.
15 comments:
Oliver-
I'm glad you joined the gym, this is the second awesome gym related post. Good job.
oh fuck. naked small-talkers are my favorite clients! thanks, babbles.
I have a dragon (tattoo), but I got it done in 1999. That makes it not as bad, right?
A 57' Chevy brings to mind malt-shops, socks hops and Buddy Holly. Likewise, my tattoo denotes the era of Limp Bizkit's "Re-Arraranged", Jean Co's, mix-cd's with no structure, and that forgotten time when Hot Topic was, ". . . this new store in the Wichita mall that sells Dead Kennedy shirts."
@a.v.e.: yeah, I think you get a pass on that.
you know why I like the idea of tattooing a naked small-talker? because that sort of fellow doesn't understand social codes of conduct. you know who else doesn't understand social codes of conduct (besides moronica)? the stalker client who's been driving by my house and claims i came to him in an acid trip in the 70s and told him we'd meet in the future.
i fucking love my job.
(RESTRAINING ORDER!)
Well, did you actually tell him that?
Yes, clearly I went back in time and sought him out in whatever bitchin' van (with a panorama of a wolf howling at a full moon painted on the side of it) he was laying in the back of and told him to expect me in, say, 30 years.
Because otherwise he'd be forced to add "fucking crazy" to "socially inept" on his long, long list of "quirks."
Want to hear something drumroll-worthy? Ask me how much he's spent on my services in the last 9 months.
first of all, I think you just created Back to the Future 4, second, how much?
Over six thousand dollars.
Holy fuck. I thought the answer was going to be closer to zero.
The worst part is that I'm pretty sure it's my time and not my service that he's been paying for. The tattoos are like the unread newspapers that pile up in the apartment of the guy who thinks the newsstand girl is cute.
Is this person, by chance, A.V.E.? Because this sounds very AVE like...
I would try to refute, but being smitten has lead me to do the following:
took up smoking.
joined the DePaul German Club.
took the bus south even though I live far north.
getting off the train five stops early because I wanted to leave, "on a high."
finishing college.
check out video equipment that I don't need, won't use, and will never understand.
wrote a twelve page paper on the Crisis of Islam (she may appear on next season's The Real World!).
calling her back later, when she isn't so busy. . . five times.
shot at reagan. hit brady.
ave is pure badass. this cannot be denied.
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