It is hard to believe such serious guidelines underlie the comparatively light-hearted atmosphere of Blue Lotus. Overhearing banter between owner Rob Beyer and tattoo artists Seneca Marks and Noah MacDonald could easily make clients forget they are in fact at a tattoo shop and not a comedy club.
Even more difficult than trying not to crack a smile is getting a serious response from anyone there. The gullible make themselves easy prey for the witticisms of these charismatic men.
"Good luck trying to get a straight answer out of any of us," Beyer warned.
Just trying to figure out the lifespan of MacDonald can take a gargantuan effort. Upon being asked MacDonald's age, responses from Marks varied: "With your hat on, you're easily 25," "This dude's like 48 or whatever," "Noah is old." MacDonald himself threw out numerous replies: "I'm 42," "I'm 28," and "I am... busy." He is 36. But that is beside the point.
Beyer certainly gets in on the fun, as well. Oftentimes he likes to mess with MacDonald by using a carefully placed mirror to stare at him until McDonald can feel Beyer's watchful gaze.
"Do you ever feel like somebody's creepin' on you?" MacDonald asked. "And then you're like... Dang it! That damn mirror!" It was at this moment he noticed Beyer watching him in it again.
All in all, they are very likeable individuals-Beyer included, hardass reputation aside. But they have to be. Tattooing is a service industry.
Charm abounds within the small building, and endearing terms like "sweetheart" and "darlin'" roll off their tongues without a second thought.
Beyer is a big softy when it comes to children. A friend brought his daughter by one Saturday afternoon, and Beyer shifted directly into the role of entertainer, pointing out all the fish in his aquarium and doing his best to explain the art of tattooing to a girl of about six or seven years.
With complete seriousness, he told her why MacDonald was using a yellow color to sketch his drawing.
"You go up with your light color first, and then that way if you make boom boom you can fix it," he cooed.
This gentle nature prevails throughout most of his days, whether it is his lone name on the list to bring in dinner for everyone or giving an employee a second chance. One may wonder where this comes from after learning he was not given much throughout his own childhood. Beyer is truly a self-made man.
Although he was born in Racine, he grew up all over the state, mostly in Kenosha. His journey to the present most certainly required a lot of drive.
"I was a ward of the state when I was 16 so there was nothing there for me, but I survived," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I joined the military because I knew I'd at least get three squares and a cot every day."
After his stint with the military, Beyer enrolled at the University of Wisconsin-Parkside for a semester then transferred to Madison Area Technical College for another semester before finally settling in at UW-Madison for the next five years.
Here he was pursuing a degree in chemistry until, at the age of 21, the decision to get his first tattoo changed his plans for the future.
It was a symbol from heavy-metal band Queensrÿche's album, Empire.
From here, things just clicked with the campus tattoo shop and eventually they offered him a job working the counter. Not long after, he stopped going to school to pursue the rare chance of becoming a tattoo artist.
"You can always go back to school, but when I got into the business, you know, you either took your opportunity or it wasn't given to you again," Beyer said.
Then, after two years working as an apprentice, the manager told him he couldn't draw.
"I think he was threatened by the fact that I wasn't a typical person who worked there," he said. "I was actually motivated and organized and could make things grow and expand."
He ended up becoming a piercer, but tattooing never left his thoughts. Finally, he realized he was not getting due recognition for all the effort he put in.
"I worked 10 hours a day, six days a week and made less than 10 thousand dollars," he said. "I asked for a raise because I was the only piercer and I ran the entire show, ordering, the scheduling, everything."
The manager wouldn't give it to him, so he turned in his notice and in 1994 opened his own shop, The Piercing Lounge.
In the meantime, friends from his former shop offered to train him in the art of tattooing. Beyer leapt at the chance, even if it meant long, weekly commutes.
"I took them up on it and drove to Minneapolis every weekend for four months to learn how to tattoo," he said.
By 1996, he had opened Blue Lotus at its first location on Old University Avenue. Eventually he combined this and the Piercing Lounge at their current spot just off of University Avenue on Gilman Street, right in the heart of UW-Madison's campus.
Obviously, the business has become successful. Head piercer John Kid remembered when it was one of the few piercing shops in the area.
"When I first started here, we'd have to ask people to leave," he reminisced. "There were so many people all the time."
Things have slowed down since, but 17 years after The Piercing Lounge opened Blue Lotus is still thriving. With the state of the economy being what it is, Kid said many other local establishments are not fairing as well.
"We just heard from another person who works in town here, and they haven't had a customer in their door in two weeks," Kid said.
Surprising, since of all of Madison's tattoo venues, Blue Lotus is known for being one of the more expensive places in town because of its quality jewelry and work. This positive feedback only reinforces the sayings that hang above Beyer's work station: "Good tattoos aren't cheap," and "Cheap tattoos aren't good."
Part one of this feature ran on Friday, Dec. 9 and can be found at dailycardinal.com.
