Butterfly scribbled her name over and over in bubble letters on the application as she waited for the assistant. She was currently in line for walk-in interviews at a tattoo shop as a front desk clerk. There wasn't anyone else in the lobby and she assumed it was because she came in 30 minutes before it was over. Butterfly was on the way to get lunch, but the gold sign on the front window called her in.
From the job details in the application, it was something that wouldn't require too much work which was perfect for Butterfly. She wasn't looking for anything serious, just a laidback job that would maintain her lifestyle.
The front area of the shop was a large space with shiny black floors and art covered walls. The peach base coat complimented the hues of the paintings and uniquely clashed with the large olive green sectional positioned to the right of the front entrance.
The art was inspired by the Renaissance era but instead of porcelain faces, cinnamon and chocolate women with elaborate Victorian updos were in the their place. It reminded her of Bridgerton, a tv show she had recently become obsessed with.
Against the main wall was the ivory front desk with a textured surface and gold foil. It housed a huge leather sign in book, computer, and small clutter that gave life to the otherwise plain area.
Behind the desk sat a red rolling chair and a large picture wall of past works by the tattoo artist framed in gold vintage plates that held a Victorian esque. A curtain of dark beads swayed gently in doorway separating the front of the shop from the back.
The space was obviously created with intention and Butterfly basked in the ambiance.It was an unorthodox place nestled perfectly between a quaint library and a coffee shop. Butterfly had walked this street many times to get to the hair salon but it was new to her.
The words on the page began to blur as she focused on shading her name. Soft neo soul drifted into her ear and the scent of a brown sugar & hot cinnamon incense further stimulated the high she was on. "I could do this all day.." She thought, imagining herself at the desk on a slow day. Her concentration broke when footsteps began to fall in her direction.
Butterfly looked up just in time to see the assistant from earlier appear in the doorway a few feet away from her. She held back a side of the beads with one hand while the other held a stack of papers. She rested her deep brown eyes on Butterfly.
"Ms. Fatimah is ready for you now." She spoke with a heavy southern drawl. Butterfly was comforted by this, finding familiarity in the stranger.
Butterfly stood up and smoothed her hands over the black maxi skirt she wore. She shuffled her pedicured toes back into the sandals that were long forgotten about on the clean plush rug. After handing the application to the woman, she was then ushered to follow her down the small hallway.
Four doors were open off the main hallway containing the artist suite. Butterfly could only glimpse at them concentrating hard on their pieces. They made it to the end of the hallway which held tall double doors. It was a no brainer this was the boss's office.
Butterfly let out a quiet breath and sent up a quick prayer before the assistant knocked on the cherry rosewood door. Clutching onto her resume and tote that rested at her side, Butterfly stood tense as they waited to be granted entry.
A few seconds passed before a voice called to come in. The door opened to reveal a small white office with gold decor. It was like Butterfly had walked into a movie set. Whereas it lacked space it was compensated by a large rug of a Persian landscape, a small chaise to the left , a library wall, and a gold sculpture of a woman with an overly large afro holding up her hands to house the glasstop that made up the desk.
