O-Daisy-Bean

the part where daisy meets paper towel buddy

It's been a long and hard road for me. My many fall outs with the law, my many failures in various careers, but one thing has been consistent: Paper Towel Buddy.

I met my dear buddy at my recently-opened tattoo parlor. I remember the day perfectly, an ungrateful client had come in to get a cute little wrist tattoo.

They had a difficult time finding my little shop. Given, I was renting out a small bedroom from Airbnb at the time, but still, they could've just called me.

They weren't too bad to look at, but they were nowhere near my beauty. But it is hard to beat my radiant appearance, especially when they don't have the signature Daisy charm.

I sat them down, making sure that they were in fact, my 11pm appointment. For the late time at night, they were surprisingly loud, honestly, it was quite offensive. I have neighbors you know!

At first, they seemed a teensy but nervous. I don't quite understand why they were so antsy, I am a total professional.

Luckily for me, this patron didn't have a roommate, so I made sure to get all means of their contact information. You know, the basics: their phone number, address, significant other.

They didn't have a significant other, which wasn't surprising with their lack of....boldness.

I offered them a deal of 20% off any piercing, which may I add, is quite generous considering my financial situation. They turned me down, clearly due to their overall lack of courage.

But I dropped the subject, as they seemed to be eyeballing the door, and Daisy needs that money.

They calmed down a touch when I started to clean their skin. I had...acquired this anti-bacterial spray from a previous job of mine, as they hadn't bothered to change their supply closet code, which is their fault, quite frankly.

They were quite picky when I was trying to showcase my best tattoo work, but my hand was shaky because of the 4 red bull's I had before the appointment. I didn't want to fall asleep during the appointment, that's just plain unprofessional.

All that time, sitting alone in a small room with them, I realized they weren't that bad looking. Cute, at a certain angle.

It was time for the S.S. Daisy to make her move.

Lucky for me, I was about to trace the design on them, and they were pretty antsy. The perfect excuse for me to hold their hand.

I thought it would be a good idea but, their palms were just really sweaty. And I pride myself on looking and smelling cute, and sweaty palms does not meet the Daisy standard of beauty, no no no.

I was able to use the excuse of needing to put on my gloves to get rid of clam hands, but alas, they were still wanting to hold my hand when I was about to tattoo them.

Looks like the old Daisy charm had stuck again.

Not in the way I wanted it to, of course. I mean, who wants to mingle with someone with such moist palms.

That's just plain nasty.

In an attempt to remove the sweat that had so unfortunately appeared on the client, I used some more of that anti-bacterial spray. Unfortunately for me, the spray made the ink run on the tattoo outline, and I had to go near those sweaty palms again.

Lucky for me, I had my trusty tool of paper towels to dab that sucker up.

Then I had an idea. Oh Daisy you've done it again.

I grabbed my sharpie and scribbled a smiley face on it, and handed it to clam hands.

It was at that moment that my best friend, Paper Towel Buddy, came into my life.

But I still had a job to do, and Daisy's not a quitter.

I did a beautiful tattoo on them, my very best work if I do say so myself. I mean, of course it was good, I am a professional, am I not?

Seeing as I am a artist, I made sure to sign it. How else are people going to know who did their tattoo?

I need the publicity.

They started to make a fuss about it, which I didn't want to deal with. Daisy doesn't do 'civil' fights, and I didn't want to go back to the slammer.

My usual guard had transferred to another precinct, and I'm not too good at making friends.

I gave them a generous 5$ discount, and then sent them on their way.

Then it was just Paper Towel Buddy and I. Alone together to brave the cruel world.

Although, rent was higher with two people, so I had to keep him hidden whenever rent was due.

And thank god I had a friend, because I soon received a mysterious, yet generous call.

Someone had put the wrong number into a job application at some place called the Doki Doki Maid Cafe, all they way in the mystical land of Japan.

Now, don't get me wrong, the person who submitted their application surely deserved this job, but I deserved it just a teensy bit more.