You were the stunning, delightfully awkward red head corner girl in the club holding a clipboard near the entrance and suggesting people to get airbrush tattoos, with you yourself having a series of glittery blue stars on the side of your forehead. I had given you my name and as you had written it down, you weren't fond of your handwriting, which I nonetheless complimented. After having talked to you briefly (my flirting was pretty horrible, but cute), I was convinced to get my own temporary tattoo, to which you suggested a series of small lips on my little cleavage (I was wearing a tank top and scarf)... but I didn't pick that idea because the tattoo would go to waste if those lips weren't yours.