So there’s this new girl working at the reception desk, and she comes into the office very often to scan ridiculously thick batches of documents. She drinks her tea from a W.I.T.C.H. mug, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to ask which one was her favourite. (It’s Irma. Hay Lin is a close second.) She wears long sleeves all the time, but today the central heating was on I think, everyone was pulling their jumpers off and I was down to the t-shirt half the day, and soon enough, the girl was too, and it turns out she’s got a tattoo on the inner part of one forearm.
SMALL TALK TIME.
me: Hey, I like your ink. It’s a cat, right?
her, turning her arm to let me see it better: Yeah.
me, yanking down the collar of my t-shirt: I’ve got one on my collarbone, look.
internal log, me @ myself: The edge of your bra is showing, idiot. Jesus fuck. Real smooth going there.
internal log, myself @ me: Oh shut the hell up, pretend that didn’t happen and hope to God she’s into you or whatever.
her: Wow, that looks great.
me: There’s a gal in so-and-so-district that makes great ones, an acquaintance recommended her for this one.
her, discreetly peeling the edge of her stocking down: I’ve got a second one on my thigh, hang on a sec…
internal log, me @ myself: oh dear lord I am A Gay
internal log, myself @ me: ✓ seen 3.56pm
me: Are you gonna to get that outline coloured later?
me: It’s gonna look so great.