Tattoos

Marketing, Chief Marketing Officer, Dallas, Downtown Dallas, Rancher, Entrepreneur, City Tavern

Nathan Bellah

A man with shaggy hair, a beard and nice clothes sits alone at a table in City Tavern drinking his first cocktail of the night listening to the live music, The Southland Swing Band. But mostly, he’s listening to the conversations around him, wondering who he’ll meet tonight.

Nathan Bellah lives across the street in Third Rail Lofts. He’s an experienced downtown resident and previously lived in the Davis Building and the Mosaic. Buildings within walking distance of the bar.

A while back, he bought a house in East Dallas for a little while and just sold it. “It was just a hell of a deal man, so I just had to buy,” Nathan says.

Overnight, the housing market in East Dallas boomed, and he knew it was time to sell. The day after he put it on the market, it sold. “I was like, oh shit,” he said. “I don’t have anywhere to go. So I was like, I guess I’ll move back downtown.”

He’s lived downtown for about six months and considers City Tavern his Cheers. He’s met people from all over the country and the world, people in the city for a while on vacation and business trips and people on a two-hour layover who just needed a drink, people who work as janitors and starving artists to elite businessmen and popular musicians. To Nathan, City Tavern is the best place he can meet interesting people and that’s what he’s here to do.

Two young men, barely old enough to drink, walk away from the bar, each holding a beer they look too eager to drink. The band wraps up a song, and Nathan hears the two men mention digital marketing, so he takes the opportunity to strike.

Nathan is a jack of all trades, a human Swiss Army knife. Nathan has two companies. One company is a ranch here in Texas that raises and trains rodeo bulls.

After the initial icebreakers, they start to talk about themselves. The boys mention that they’re from the area and have had hard times finding jobs. They’re full of the dreams of inexperienced entrepreneurs.

“I grew up in Lubbock and I’ve tried to fight those roots for a very long time,” Nathan says. “But after a while, you realize that living in Texas you have to give in to working in either oil or agriculture.” It stemmed from there. We’re blessed. He and his friend, two young guys just like them, were doing well. “I asked my buddy, what do we do with some of this extra money we have. He said to me, ‘You know what? Let’s buy a bull.’”

They all laugh.

“You know, you’re dealing with the salt of the earth,” Nathan said. “The people, in the business have been very helpful, even though you’re competing against them.”

Nathan says that in the business, everybody knows everybody and it’s like a family.

“My buddy and I stick out like sore thumbs,” he says. “You know, he’s covered in tattoos and I wear like New Balances and have some tats too and when we show up, everyone is like ‘oh shit here they come,’ just excited for us to be there. It’s cool.”

Nathan considers himself an entrepreneur from the start. “I guess I’ve always had it in me,” he says. “Just like I’m sure you do too.”

The conversation shifts and the boys talk about themselves some more. They had an idea for a company they wanted to start when they were in school. They weren’t doing too well in their classes, and uninterested in continuing their education, jumped at some advice to pursue their dreams. The dreams failed, and they started to look for other jobs with little success.

Nathan says that like them, he sucked at college, but finished. He grew up in Lubbock and decided to go to Texas Tech for a year, but ended up transferring to the University of North Texas. After bouncing around a few majors, the Entrepreneur decided to double major in rhetorical studies and Spanish, instead of something like business administration.

“I ended up really liking the communications department and the next thing you know I am back in Spanish which I hadn’t taken since junior high, why not get a degree in it?”

Nathan says the coolest thing that probably ever happened was in his first three jobs out of college working for the man, he got laid off. Each one, laid off. One after another. He ended up going to work for The Bear Stearns Companies, Inc. Nathan finally landed a job where he wasn’t laid off, but quit instead.

“I met a man who is now 63 working in digital technology with a resume you wouldn’t believe,” he says. “He has been my mentor to this day.”

The man had a small private company in 2005 and asked Nathan to jump on board randomly, so he left Bear Stearns.

“I left this job at corporate America at a company with roots so thick you wouldn’t think anyone could tear the tree down,” Nathan says.

It was the biggest gamble of his life and they still work together to this day. They have made good money together and helped a lot of companies out. It was a good role of the dice.

“I mean this guy headed up the YTK project for the US postal service so his level of knowledge in digital is extensive plus he’s a tinkerer, he’s a genius, let’s say that, he’s a genius,” Nathan says. “He’s got some strategies that he developed that are on the cutting edge of digital marketing. God, that’s so boring to even say, but yeah, we’re going to use him for some things.”

They all have another sip of their drinks and look at the stage as the band begins to play an old Duke Ellington dance hit, “It Don’t Mean A Thing.”

“I always say dance with the person that brought you and he’s just been a good person,” Nathan says, emphasized by a slight Texas drawl.

Nathan jumped ship at the right time since Bear Stearns shut down in the 2008 financial crisis and was sold to JPMorgan Chase.

“I kind of wish I would have been laid off. I would have had a severance package,” he tells the boys. One almost spits out their beer as they snort with laughter.

“You don’t have to be worried about what’s happening now,” Nathan says. You need to be worried about what’s going to happen.”

“How do we do that?” one asks Nathan as the other looks panicky.

“You go and learn, you know, you always learn,” Nathan says. Not the answer they were expecting. “You try to better yourself.”

“We don’t have any money,” they say to Nathan.

“If you can’t gamble on yourself, who can you gamble on? If you can’t gamble on what you love, what can you gamble on?” Nathan says.

Nathan goes on to discuss his most recent gamble, a job as the Chief Marketing Officer for a company he’s launching with his best friend soon. Menguin will be an “online tuxedo rental solution” for all the men in major metro areas that hate to go out to Men’s Warehouse or Joseph A. Bank.  Now you can now go online, build your tuxedo, rent it right there.

“We actually have a technology that will measure within an eighth of an inch using your computer camera,” Nathan said. “We’re pretty excited about it.”

The boys show some enthusiasm, ask a few questions about the tech but their eyes sparkled with the hope of a job, from their new mentor. One, shaking, looks at the other who nods. His voice wavers as he asks Nathan for a job.

“That just tells me right there you don’t believe enough in yourself to even go and get higher education, like step outside, change the game, change the game, that’s it,” he says to the bewildered faces. “That’s all I could ever ask. I always say this, impress me. Impress me.”

The boys can tell the conversation is over when Nathan spots a documentary producer he met the week before and walks away.

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Galleria, Body Jewelry, Piercings, Shopping, Retail, Mall, Dallas

Lainie

A middle-aged Asian couple walks through the Galleria, leading their two young children sipping a shared fountain drink from lunch and poking each other. After passing Macy’s on the third floor, they stop and look over the railing at the ice rink below. A kiosk to the mother’s right catches her eye where a young girl with dirty blonde hair and a septum piercing sits reading Black Hole, a graphic novel.

The mother walks over, catching the attention of the saleswoman who looks up for only a second. The woman looks at the vendor, brow furrowing as she leans in to the vendor interrupting her reading for the second time. The vendor knows she can’t make the sale, but they’re both curious about what each has to say.

“Does it hurt?” the Asian woman asks the vendor, pointing at a navel piercing on the stand. The vendor at Body Jewelry, answers her question and buries back into the pages as the family walks away.

Lainie, a 19-year-old sophomore English major at Collin County Community College, sits for 11 hours every day at her first retail job. She’s done cupcakes and ice cream, stuff like that, but likes that she can go to a job she knows something about to help pay for school.

Besides the boredom, the thing that frustrates her the most is that Galleria employees have to follow dress code, where she can’t wear what she wants and isn’t allowed to wear piercings. The anger builds in her voice as she says she is getting tired of the “conservative outlook.”

“Actually, I don’t really care,” she said with a grin with a grin that soothes the scene. “I mean it’s a piercing shop so it makes a difference if I actually have the things that we sell.”

Lainie knows many people with big gauges, young people obviously with faces that look like they fell into a tackle box.

“The thing is when my generation is in the workplace 15 years from now, do you have any idea how many people will have stretched ears?” she said, not waiting for a response. “So many, because I feel like it’s 25 percent of my generation with gauged ears.”

Some vendors that are more desperate to make a sale will stand up, pacing, interrupting mall guests from their texts as they walk trying to get to the next store, but Lainie hasn’t felt the need to do that yet. People just come up to her throughout the morning, sometimes they’re older people fascinated by the concept of body jewelry, but usually it’s the alternative crowd or girls with a small nose stud who know exactly what they want.

Sometimes, her customers don’t know what they want or don’t have the piercing yet. She loves when she can help someone learn more about piercings. She will hand them a business card for a tattoo and body piercing shop she recommends and sends them on their way. If they look young, she will give tips on how to clean jewelry and what kind of cleaning solution to use for different jewelry.

“Like, you can’t use anything with alcohol on anything with the little plastic balls because they’ll explode,” she said. “If it’s metal, I just tell them to use warm water and soap. That’s all you need.”

Lainie is annoyed when people just walk around and look at things. When they ask her the price, Lainie responds politely and professionally, sometimes aggravating the customers. She’ll haggle to an extent, but not very much.

“I’ll be a lot more willing if they get more than three things,” she said, her soft voice picking up intensity and volume. “That makes a huge difference and the prices go down really well when you get more than two or three things.”

All the boredom washes from her eyes as the alternative crowd shops. She stands up, bookmarks the page and grins when people come and they have all these tattoos, huge gauges and gauged noses. She’s particularly fascinated by the concept of gauging a tongue, where the customer gradually increases the size of their tongue rings until they get a hole in it.

“You can get a hole in your balls too,” she said. “I think that’s kind of interesting.”

Lainie had her ears gauged up to eights but went back down to 14’s. She wasn’t really into it and is now back in regular earrings after healing. Now, she just plays with her septum ring as she turns the page, waiting for the next customer.