That morning Gregoire was pretty sure his head was going to split in half, he had drank insanely too much last night and he regretted it. Sure it was a fun night but his head was killing him the next day. Luckily he managed to have a pretty slow day, not many customers, and no tattoos. The sun was starting to go down and Gregoire was feeling himself again. His head ache had gone away about an hour earlier, he'd finally managed to hold down some food, and he wasn't dizzy at all. One he was up to it Gregoire went back to what he was supposed to be doing that day, stocking shelves. It surprised him how often he had to restock his shelves, and yet it didn't feel like he sold a lot of stuff. He was pretty sure it wasn't theft, but he was starting to consider hiring a wizard to put up anti-theft wards on his shop, just to be safe. Grabbing a cardboard box from the back and bringing it to the front of the store he grabbed the pocket knife he kept in his pocket and sliced open the tape on top of the box.
Then pulling out his wand he used it to levitate the supplies to their rightful locations on the shelves on the other side of the store front. He was about half way done when the front door startled him. The bell rang about the same time that the bottle of paint fell to the floor. It smashed and orange paint oozed onto the ground and Gregoire laughed. It didn't matter that he was old enough to of mastered simply levitation spells by now, he still managed to make messes wherever he went. Luckily they were cleaned up just as easily as they were made with a few flicks of his wand. Gregoire muttered the words he'd spoken more times that he could count and slowly the paint seemed to go right back into the jar it came from. The broken glass repaired itself, lid sealed shut, and the the jar joined its kind on the shelf. Once that situation was dealt with he turned back to the customer who had walked in and offered her a kind smile. Gregoire had been to plenty of tattoo shops that were rude and unwelcoming, he made sure his potential customers never felt that way.
"Hello there," He said as he pushed his wand back into his pockets, his thick French accent rising to the surface of his words. "Can I help you with something? We've got a special going on for piercing right now. Buy the piercing, get the jewelry for free." During the summer Gregoire had found that his largest customer group was 15 and 16 year old female students looking to get their bellybuttons pierced. He made the special just for them, and he didn't lose money doing it, he got wholesale prices on studs but he didn't need to tell them that. The woman standing in his shop did not look like a 15 year old student though, she looked older and she looked nervous. "Are you alright?" He asked before he could think twice about asking. After spending years tattooing he had grown very perceptive on being able to pick out the people who might faint once the tattooing started. However, he was a little curious about why she looked like she might pass out when it hadn't even begun yet. Was she lost?
