So Exited Me
In fact, Howard reflected, she hadn't said much of anything all day; she'd been quiet and uncommunicative at breakfast that morning, and the only time she'd really spoken to him was when he'd called from Auto Circus to tell her that Ralph and Norma were taking them out dining and dancing that night at The Gandydancer, a gesture on Ralph's part that was more or less a corollary to the gift of the Polaroid for the Jamison's third wedding anniversary.Cindy had not wanted to go. In fact, she'd been snappish and irritable at the suggestion, saying that she didn't care to go anywhere with Ralph Taylor. Howard had immediately surmised that her reaction was on account of the pictures and the copy of The Polaroid Club News; she had obviously opened the manila envelope the night before, just as he'd planned, although she was surely not admitting the fact to him. It was only natural, he thought, that she would blame Ralph for the content of the photos--that was to be expected. So he'd carefully. I look into the shop, and someone spots me. I think to myself, it’s now or never. I push open the doors and smile at the tall, burly looking man behind the counter. “Good morning, how can I help you?” His voice is husky, almost mean sounding, only making me all the more nervous. “I-I want to get a tattoo.” “You’re in the right place for it then… ID, please.” I feel the butterflies go wild in my stomach. My best friend got me a fake ID a week ago and promised me it would pass. I dig in my purse and hand him it. I feel pale, and faint. He stares at it for what seems like forever, than nods. “You know what you want?” “I do, yes.” “Good, he’ll do it in a short bit.” I look to where the burly man points and see a young man working on someone else. I nod again, and sit down. I pick up one of the many tattoo books, flicking through it. I’m not even looking at the work, but want something to distract myself with. Another twenty minutes pass before I hear my name. “Um, Missy?” I.
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