She's Melting On Me Like Cotton Candy

Isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen?
I just wanna eat him up!

Her heart shivers in my hand
She's melting on me like cotton candy
I make the faces that make you cry
I want you more when you're afraid of 
My disease, disease is draining me 
Anymore you're not so "pretty please" 
Disease, disease is draining me
I want you more when you're afraid of me


~ Marilyn Manson, "Sweet Tooth"



  During Halloween at the tattoo shop, we filled our lollipop bowl with extra candies for the customers to snack on. Usually it was only picked through when customers came in with their kids, or when the friends of our teenaged clientele would happen upon the bowl while they were waiting for their friend to get pierced.

But the biggest fans of our Halloween candy bowl was this gaggle of pubescent teenaged boys that hang out at the strip mall in which we are located. I used to smile benignly and offer them the bowl, and they would each gleefully take a few candies and trot triumphantly out of the store.

That is, until last week. Three of the teenaged boys came in last Friday just as I opened the doors for business at the bright, disgustingly ungodly hour of 12 noon. I recognized the two black kids from earlier candy excursions, but the third one, a cheeky Muslim kid, was a new addition.

I was busy at the back of the store when they came in, washing my mug in one of the three metal sinks along the side wall of the shop.

“Can we have some candy?” they called from the front, standing on tiptoe to see me over the countertop.

“Sure,” I said, dumping some soap into my coffee mug.

“Yesssss!” they shouted, and the three of them bolted over to the candy bowl.

I watched them as they each dug a hand into the bowl and pulled out as much candy as they could possibly hold, then stuff it into their jacket pockets. I rolled my eyes. That was a bit much, I thought with a smirk.

They they all reached into the bowl again.

“Hey, whoa!” I yelled from the back of the store, and they immediately started grabbing and cramming candy as quickly as they could.

“Hey!” I said again. “That’s enough, guys.”

“Okay, we’re sorry,” one of them called back, but they didn’t stop filling their pockets.

Little fuckers, I thought, and reached up to turn off the faucet. I yanked a piece of paper towel off of the roll hanging from the wall and headed towards the front of the store.

They squealed and dropped the bowl back onto the counter, then ran for the door.

“We love you, Tattoo Girl!” they shouted as they burst through the door and ran into the parking lot.

My rage immediately abated. Tee hee! Tattoo Girl.

And that's when I forgave them, because I am so vain.

  I leave you now with a link to a video to see the most awesome thing to ever happen to ballet... (I tried to link the video but it didn't work, goddamnit)

***Kage's Favorite Ballet Clip EVER****

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