14. Its all about Money

Adrian

"Your friend?" Minerva whispered, glancing at the lollipop next to me.

"Yes, that is so." He is my friend, a good friend. We promised to go to art college together, but because my sister forced me to major in law, we split up. We're still friends, just not as close as we used to be.

"What's the matter, Carl?" I asked, signalling the bartender to bring a pint for my best friend.

Carl's laughter was cut off, a sign that he was happy. “I heard you needed a job, well, I have some good news for you, friend.”

Looks like this is going to be long. Poor Minerva, with clothes like that, the wind would love to touch her body. “Minerva, can you wait in the car? It won't take long."

"Sure, why not." He stepped like a duck. The ass moves left and right as if inviting to be squeezed.

"Your boyfriend?" asked Carl, his eyes fixed on the lump."

“Well, just acquaintances. You like?"

"Yeah." He's excited. "Want to introduce me?"

I nodded. “Depends on what news you bring, mate.” Pushed the beer glass in front of him and took a sip of mine. "So, what news do you bring?"

Carl looked around, like a criminal making sure there weren't any cops around, then he decided to speak seriously in a low intonation. "I heard you need a job, I want to ask you to work."

I nodded, taking a sip of beer. "What kind of work."

"Easy job." His thumb and forefinger rubbed against each other. "A lot of money."

"If it involves guns, drugs, or stealing, I don't go."

"What?" He chuckled. "That's racist, man. Just because I'm black, you judge me low."

"I'm just kidding." Half serious. I don't want to work as a criminal. Fany wants me to be a grown man with a job, not a criminal. "So, what job do you mean?"

“My uncle, Johnson. He's a tattoo parlor entrepreneur. He has two branches in LA. Well, he opened a new branch in Santee Alley. I hope your tattooing skills haven't faded."

Well, his words intrigued me. "So you want me to be a guard, or a tattoo artist at your place?"

"Of course the tattoo artist, how?"

People say enjoy your work so you don't get bored. Tattooing for me is a gift, I love tattoos more than any other work of art. Now that he's asked me to become a tattoo artist and get paid, of course I won't refuse. It's just that I want to know a few things about this job.

If I work, I'm sure I'll lose a lot of time for fun. Salary must be in accordance with the time I will sacrifice. "So how does it work?"

“The way it works is you are quite silent, tattooing people if someone asks for it, receiving payment. Working hours from evening to night. On Sundays work from morning to night. A month you have two days off. A ten percent profit share every month, you earn ten percent of the gross profit of the store's total income. How?"

I still don't want to. “Is there anyone else besides me?”

“One Korean and one Spanish, they are willing to work part time. How, what do you want?” Carl gave his Uncle a business card. “Johnson, never harms anyone, only benefits clients, workers and the environment.”

I took a business card, flipped through it while speaking casually. “Ten percent of a thousand dollars, I only get a hundred dollars. You know, street tattoo artists earn over five hundred dollars."

“Thousand dollars out of ten thousand dollars. That's the minimum you will get, Ad. Come on, bro."

"Twenty percent," I said.

The sound of the horn made us turn around. Looks like Minerva can't wait to try to warm my mattress in the apartment. I got up took a business card, left from there.

"Adrien, how are you?"

"Let's see where he works first," I replied, getting into the car. Work matters, can be postponed. Tonight, Minerva will rock in my lap.