The roll of a cart on linoleum flooring is overshadowed by the wasping sound of a tattoo gun. A man sanitizes a message table and the scent of alcohol is propelled by two fans placed on medium.
The waiting room is the entrance of an old house, where tattoo art hangs in oak and pine picture frames. The jangle of keys and the banter between tattooists, laden with curse words and inside jokes overshadows the wincing of pain from the girl in Dolce Gabbana glasses. Her dyed cranberry hair covers her pale face as she shifts beneath a down jacket.
Despite only having known him for four months, she is getting the name of her boyfriend tattooed on her shoulder. He died two days ago.