green alien

*Gabriel walks into a tattoo shop*

(it’s the shop where Sam works, of course)

(it’s his shift, too)

“Hello, can I get a tattoo?”

“Sure. Something in particular you wanna do?”

“You, preferably.”

“…that was awful. Does it ever work?”

“Nope. But hey, you’re smiling, so I’d say it was worth it.”



“The - um - the tattoo?”

“Oh. Yes, yes I do, as a matter of fact. I want the cliche flock of birds flying into the distance one. But with UFOs. UFOs that look like birds at a glance, but when you look closer you see that they are actually UFOs. And there’s even a tiny green alien in one of them, waving its green alien hand. Or tentacle. Your choice, I’m not picky.”

“…yeah, I can do that. But… can I ask why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want this particular design?”

“That’s a very, very personal question. And a serious matter. I cannot possibly bare my soul like that to a total stranger.”

“Yet you’d allow them to poke you with a needle.”

“Oh I’d allow them to poke me with all kinds of things if they happen to be as gorgeous as you.”

“…okay fine, I kinda walked into that one. Doesn’t make it less awful though.”

“I try.”

“I’m Sam, by the way. Not a total stranger now, see?”

“Nice to meet you, Sam, I’m Gabriel.”

“Does 8 pm this Saturday work for you?”

“Sure. But aren’t you closed Saturdays?”

“Oh I wasn’t talking about your appointment.“


“Nope. Today’s kinda slow. We can get to your tattoo in an hour or so - as soon as I’m done with the sketches.”

“What are we doing on Saturday then?”

“Whatever you feel like. Coffee? Movie? Dinner?”

“As in… a date.”


“You’re asking me out… on a date?!”

“Yep. But just so you know, it’s not because of your awful pick up lines.”

“…you sure?”


“O…kay then. Dinner. Date. Yes. Maybe.”


“Well, it depends…”

“On what?”

“If you can guess why I want this tattoo.”

“…to fuck with people?”

“Marry me? I mean, we haven’t even had our first date yet, and you know me so well already.”

“Hmm… I’ll let you know after the dessert.”