It Came From Hell.

For the most part I love my job.  %95 of the people I tattoo are pleasant, nice, lovely people with great stories. Usually.. then there is that one asshole...

A few weeks ago a loud, laid back, Latin couple from Miami came into my shop. The guy, we'll call him Kaken, wanted a huge pirate ship that would cover his side and half of his stomach. They seemed cool enough and being really into the old school tattoo style, I was thrilled at the opportunity to do a pirate ship with a mermaid.

When I told them the price for a custom piece that huge the woman about fell over, but Kraken understood, as long as it was "big!". I told them I only start drawing when I get a deposit, they said they'd stop in later, but were never seen again... bummer.

Until
Yesterday...

Friday Kraken called to say they would be in the area this weekend and he wanted a tribal octopus tattoo. He texted me the design and I gave a very low price. They wanted it done that night at around 11pm but settled for Saturday at 2pm. His girlfriend, we'll call her Banshee, wanted a seahorse. I gave them a way to low price that my boss will never forgive me for.

At 2pm on the dot, they arrive. They were in good spirits and I could tell they had consumed a drink or two but nothing extreme, and I myself have been guilty of having a drink before a tattoo so didn't worry about it.  We did the paper work and it was go time. Kraken ended up wanting the design way bigger than expected and wanted it on his ribs... we've talked about the ribs and how much they suck before. A smart artist would have raised the price. I made a bone-head move. I regret that now.

So I placed the stencil on and he lays on bed and we begin... that's when shit got out of control.


He went from buzzed grown-up to "insta-wasted".

He started making animal noises and drooling, yes drooling.

He kept moving and shifting, while I was in mid-tattooing, into positions physically impossible to tattoo him in. When I would tell him to he needed to stop moving and to get back in the position I put him in, he'd just ignore me. Banshee, who you could tell was embarrassed but trying to play it off as no big thing, became my interpreter.

At some point he actually took off his pants and was just standing there in his boxer briefs. Well, trying to stand there, more like... wobble.

He almost went outside and took a cigarette break half naked. He took pee breaks with the bathroom door wide open. I'd like to inform readers that my shop is attached to a beach gift shop where various forms of population are in there and had to witness this. 

On top of all of this movement and uncooperativeness, he kept trying to touch me. Any normal women would have flipped watching their man do this but Banshee just kept making excuses for him. Finally I had enough and told him he was had gotten enough as he could handle for the day as he was bleeding like a murder victim and had been asking for about an hour if we were done.

I can honestly tell you his tattoo was shit. Terrible. Half done, bad lining, HORRIBLE. A perfect contestant for Tattoo Nightmares. I am not ashamed. After the stress he put me through and the disrespect he had on me, the shop, and the general public, he deserves what he gets.

Where was my boss in all of this? He didn't back me up at all. He's not a tattoo artist or have any knowledge of the industry, he is a business man and I am just a pawn in his money making. Needless to say, this is not my long term career shop.

Banshee texted me this morning asking if I would complete Kraken's tattoo in 2 weeks when they come back... I have not responded yet.

Lesson of the day: Don't tattoo drunk people. Don't let anyone disrespect you. You are an artist, not someone's bitch.

Love yourself,

-Casey