It’s mid-work-week and I’m back to the tattoo shop manager grind. It’s crazy busy in my head with ideas and ways to move forward and I often start my work days stuttering like a fucking idiot while I say, “Yes, [new girl], I’ll get a schedule written out for– oh! [tattooer who only works 1 day per week] since you’re here I need ONE THOUSAND TASKS from you, and four people have stated intentions to get walk-in tattoos in the next hour but only two tattooers are actually available. Anyways I gathered you all together here to talk about how I’d like to get you all to design a banner FOR FREE and also who wants to skip the tattoo convention and stay at the shop by him or herself?” Add in three phone calls interrupting that and the printer fucking up and that more-or-less sums this morning.
It’s an awesome job. I actually really like the organizing, problem-solving, customer relations, and of course the amazing tattooers and piercers I work with considering I myself have absolutely no ability to tattoo or pierce myself. Who woulda’ thought I’d work in a tattoo shop? Not me until recently.
The new girl asked me about my managerial experience and I had a bunch of other things I was trying to handle so, even though I forget my answer, I’m pretty sure I said something along the lines of, “Oh, I’ve never been a manager before.” Yep. First time tattoo shop manager and chicken farmer here, all in one week.
Part of my job is learning how to maintain the shop’s web site and its WordPress blog so I like to think working on this blog here is beneficial to my work. It’s a good justification to avoid printing out work charts and lists at home. I print out work shit at home often because while at work, I start to miss my chickens, and then I end up printing out pictures of them to put up at the front desk. So I feel bad for using up their expensive ink for pictures of cocks and hens so I then try to use my own ink whenever possible.
I really, really, really want to get a tattoo of a cock.
So that’s how my life goes. I spend three days per week trying to be a hardcore chicken farmer, going around acquiring hens or straw or whatever and excessively visiting my chickens, followed by 4 days of being a sweet & dedicated tattoo shop manager and running around doing errands and continuing to deal with things after hours (and on my days off, but whatever as I obviously continue to be a chicken farmer on the 4 days I work at the shop!).
Life is pretty grand indeed. 21 chickens, 4 cats, 2 hamsters, an AWESOME son, a sweet job, a sexy husband, a lovely house, and a counter-top ice maker. Other than owning a pool, millions of dollars, or a mini-horse, could life get any better?