The Appointment

He has an appointment, In the Big Smoke,The Great Wen and if successful I will of course provide indubitable support, keep in touch, on occasion visit. He reveals "It's with an artist." "Wow, anyone I know". "What's the job?" "Unlikely Dad, but he's massively respected in his field....tattooing. It's not an interview. I'll be back tomorrow after he's finished." Following realisation all I can muster is "Cool" a poor attempt at acceptance. We go through the expected. Surety. Who? What? Where? It was always going to happen. A music production degree without body art is, I believe an auto fail. And deep down I wished it was me, confident, carefree, au courant, Once I possibly was, so I'll tell him it looks sensational, cool.