‘I have a tat,’ she whispered nervously to me. ‘You know, a tattoo. On my back.’
We had not reached the stage in our relationship where I had seen her naked back yet. My hopes were high that this might be the night.
‘Okay,’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t have any myself. They seem a bit too permanent. A bit too painful. But they can look cool.’
‘You’ll hate it,’ she declared, and she looked so sad.
‘I don’t see why.’ Then I had a thought. ‘Is it someone’s name? Your ex husband? Some other lover?’
She shook her head, rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not that foolish.’
‘A swastika perhaps?’ I suggested with a smile.
She laughed a little, despite herself. ‘No. Nothing like that. But I was fairly high when I got it done.’
‘Perhaps you should just show it and let me decide.’
She turned away from me and took off her blouse. Reached behind, she undid her bra.
‘Is that….’ I hesitated a moment. ‘Is it Ariel?’
‘Yes.’
‘The Disney princess?’
‘Yes. I can get it removed!’
‘You’re right,’ I told her. ‘I do hate it. Turn around so I don’t have to see it any more.’