Chapter 2

1069 Words

He wants to leave Thursday night to avoid rush-hour traffic on the interstate the next morning, since the convention starts early on Friday. So I shove a handful of clothes into a backpack—we’re only going to be there a few days—and fill two rolling crates with my tattoo supplies. I take flash art for those customers who’ll want a generic design, a pad of carbon paper for those who’ll want something I draw up, every bottle of ink I can find, a whole stack of autoclaved needles, an unopened box of latex gloves, surgical soap, A & D ointment, plastic wrap, masking tape, paper towels, witch hazel…everything I think I might possibly need to create art away from my booth. Mojo has just as much as me, maybe more. He brings along a laptop and printer/scanner combo for anyone who might want to pr

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