The copying one, at length
This is the decline people push back on hardest and it is worth explaining properly, because it sounds precious.
A tattoo you saw and loved was drawn for a specific body at a specific size in a specific place, by somebody who made a hundred decisions you cannot see in a photograph. Copying it means reproducing those decisions on anatomy they were not made for, and the result is usually a slightly worse version of the original in a slightly wrong place.
What happens instead: you bring it, we work out what you actually responded to, and that gets drawn for you. In a decade of doing it that way, roughly nobody has come back wishing they had got the copy, and several people have said the thing they liked turned out to be something they had not consciously noticed.
The entourage
One person, and only if you want one. A booth with an audience is a booth where the artist is managing a room instead of working, and a four-hour session is long enough without a conversation happening over it.
Nobody minds if you come alone. Most people do.
No music after seven
Odd rule, real reason. The building is a converted print shop with concrete floors and no ceiling treatment, the neighbours upstairs are residential, and after seven the sound carries. So evenings are quiet, and it turns out to be the best part of the day to be tattooed.