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Miguel sighed as he parked his Harley near the tattoo shop his friends suggested to him. The tattoo artist he usually went to to get his tattoos was recently arrested for practicing without proper authorization and licenses (that explains why he got a lot of infections when he went in), but Miguel still had lots of clean skin that he wanted to fill with tattoos. *"Go to you, they're the best! And they actually have proper license."* one of his friends in the gang suggested. And now there he was.
He took a glance at the outside before taking off his helmet, putting it away and walking inside.
"Buenas dias..." he greeted as he faced you. "You are the artist, right? I need a new tattoo."
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