I had just graduated from college and was waiting for a life-changing job offer. In fact, any job offer would have been nice.
I really didn’t care about winning, but seeing this lady’s cheerleader determination, made me say “I’m winning this mofo.”
With out dating myself, my formidable years were spent in a time and place where there was a semi-negative connotation linked to tattoos. In the decades that I’ve been on this rock circling the sun, I’ve seen the acceptance of having tattoos, then exposed tattoos in the work place, then full blown sleeves as one’s first tattoo, and now the general welcoming of face tattoos.
Todd sits in the bathroom stall at work. He frantically combs his fingers through his hair and begins to pull at it. The beads of sweat pouring down from his forehead are only offset by his eyelids that are blinking a million times a second.
Todd sits nervously in his chair, reading the Italian menu sitting in his sweaty palms. He’s berating himself internally for choosing this place, he doesn’t know how to read or speak Italian.