While eating breakfast, I was searching the net for the best place to get my new tattoo. Adding to the mountain avens and the maple leaf I already have, I’ll be getting the rose and the daffodil. England’s nation flower and Wales’ national flower. I ultimately decided on a place called Attitude. They had many location throughout Manchester. The one I wanted to go to was downtown. I gave them a call to see if they could fit me in today or tomorrow and they said to come on in and they’ll squeeze me in. Getting ready, I left the flat at 2.
A half hour walk later, I arrive at the location. Going in and picking up their mail off of the floor, I’m greeted by one of the artists. I respond with ‘Mail call!’ Talking with him, I find out that I’ve actually gone to the wrong location. Not completely convinced, I look at my phone at the address to where I was supposed to go to and tell him ‘Yup. I done goofed. Sorry about that.’ I said my goodbyes, left, then looked at me phone. I had walked in the completely wrong direction! It was going to be a hour walk now. Oh well. Part of the adventure!
Twenty minutes later, I came up to a crazy intersection where three highways met. Trying to figure out where to go in order to get to the other side, I spend a good ten minutes in doing so. Fed up once I got across, I said screw it and jumped on the tram and rode it downtown.
Getting into the parlour, I walk up the three flights of stairs. Going in and talking with a guy in there, he tells me that this is indeed the place. Relieved, I tell him what I’m looking for and we go over pictures on the internet. Finally deciding on what I want, he said come on back for half-four and he’ll ink me up. After watching years of British television shows, I knew exactly what he meant. I said see ya later and went out for coffee.
At half-four, or 4:30, I went back, took off my shirt, laid down on the table, and he went to town. We chatted, cracked jokes (half of them were about Canada and Canadians [we’re good at making fun of ourselves]), jokingly ripped into his girlfriend for not bringing us coffee too, then shut up what she said that she has never pierced eyeballs before and that she was looking for an excuse to do so.
After a hour and a bit, I put my shirt back on, shook his hand, and left. My chest was super sore and tender, my walk back to the flat felt like it took longer than normal. I didn’t want to move my arms when I walked because that moved my shirt thus rubbed against my chest. It hurt partly because of the tattoos, but mostly because he was pretty rough shaving my chest.
I picked up another pizza at the grocery store near the flat, cooked it up when I got back, watched Scrubs, and figured out what I wanted to send back home.