10 Things & Then I'll Go

Eastside Ink

I change into my little black dress and touch up my hair and makeup. Trying to imagine what Paige has planned for me next is exciting. Maybe I'm going to the symphony or somehow she bought me a ticket to a play.

As soon as those thoughts appear I quickly tamp them down. The truth is, I don't care what Paige wants me to do next. I know I'm going to do it without question. This day has already turned out to be the most amazing day of my life and I've hardly done anything. I feel so close to Paige with every instruction she has written down. This mystery scavenger hunt of sorts is thrilling and it makes me wish she were here so we could do it all together.

I pull Paige's letter from my purse, sit at my dining room table to read item number four and immediately freak out.

4. Get a tattoo!

Remember to breathe, Natalie.

Do you remember when we talked endlessly about getting matching BFF tattoos our freshman year of high school? I'm so glad we didn't do it, by the way, but this afternoon we are popping your tattoo cherry! I want you to walk over to Eastside Ink tattoo parlor and ask for Jackson.

Yes, I know you know who he is.

No. No. NO!

Paige is so evil! What has she done?

So there is this guy, The Tattoo Guy, as Emily and I refer to him. He started coming into the bakery a little over a year ago and I've had a crush on him from the minute I first laid my eyes on him.

The first time he came in I was in the middle of a huge custom order for a wedding and we had a line for cupcakes out the door. He just wanted a cup of coffee and seemed mildly agitated by the time he made it to the counter to order. I was so busy that morning I barely looked up at him when he barked his order to me. I was well beyond the point of frustration so I may or may not have barked back at him. When I finally looked up at him my sarcastic retort lodged in the back of my throat and I spilled his coffee all over the floor.

He lunged across the counter, grabbing a handful of napkins from a dispenser and tried in vain to help clean the mess that splattered everywhere. I apologized profusely and filled another cup of coffee, reaching into the display case and grabbing a blueberry muffin for him on the house.

When he smiled at me his clear blue eyes twinkled and he had the most adorable dimples I remember wanting to lick. He might have said something else to me but I was comatose and couldn't form words with my mouth. He said "see you around" and I waved to him as he walked out of the bakery.

After a few months, I learned that his name was Jackson and he was a tattoo artist across the street at Eastside Ink. Once the temperatures started to rise last summer and he came in wearing t-shirts and shorts, I realized most of his arms and legs were covered in tattoos. The majority of his tattoos were black and white but I caught glimpses of color underneath his biceps and peeking under the hem of his shorts when he would wear them.

Some days he would dine in the cafe with his coffee and pastry, but most of the time he would take his order to go and rush out the door. He never initiated much conversation other than pleasantries and I have always been too shy to talk to him. Oh, I would ask if he was having a nice day, or comment on his sports hoodies just to make small talk, but anything other than that had me spiraling towards a panic attack.

"You just had sex with him with your eyes!" Paige scoffed one day as he walked out of the bakery. She would often hang out with me late in the day before I got off work, then we would grab dinner or do something else fun she had planned.

"I was not!" My face is beet red, but I was too immature to admit I melted into a heaping mound of pudding whenever Jackson came around.

"Nat, he is so damn hot. You have to talk to him!" Natalie licked a strawberry cupcake, her favorite, and watched through the window as Jackson went back into the tattoo parlor.