“When can you pencil me into your schedule? For my tattoo.” “Still on that kick, huh?” “It’s not a kick. I really do want a tattoo.” I roll my head against the back of the couch and poke at her knee. She nudges me back with her sock-covered foot and leaves it there, tucking it beneath my thigh when I don’t protest. She narrows her eyes. “What do you want?” “I don’t know.” “Where do you want it?” “Don’t know that either.” “Typically, in my professional experience, if someone doesn’t know what sort of tattoo they want or where they want to get it, they’re not ready for a tattoo.” I take a sip of
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