“‘Where were you last night?’ … That’s your new tattoo?”
“Yeah! You don’t like it?”
“No.”
“I thought it would be kinda funny. You know, in an ironic way, cause I always ask you that in the morning when you go out without me, don’t I?”
“But… on your forehead? Really?”
“Look, if you don’t like it, I’ll just grow a beard to hide it. Simple.”
“A woman… with a beard… on her forehead?”
“Yeah, like all the feminists do. You know, to protest against global warming and that.”
“Brilliant.”
“You don’t seem convinced.”
“Oh, I’m convinced. I’m convinced that you’ve lost your mind!”
“You’re not into beards? Fine. Then I’ll have an elephant trunk grafted onto my forehead. It’ll be perfect for when we go to the zoo, they’ll let me in for free! And they’ll feed me pistachios and pomegranates.”
“No way!”
“I thought you liked going to the zoo.”
“That’s… not the point.”
“Hey, honey. I’m sorry if I’ve let you down. I thought you’d like the tattoo… Oh! I know what I’ll do. Wait for it. I’ll cover my face with plaster to make it look like a wall! And we could even hang some pictures on it, and no one will notice a thing.”
“Sure…”
“Oh! And to make it even more convincing, we could turn my eyes into tiny windows—you always say they look like windows—and turn my mouth into a mini sofa. People will think it’s a living room, and they’ll just sit down, have a cuppa tea, watch some telly and they won’t even notice my face anymore!”
“Smashing. You should ask them for rent.”
“Right! Great idea! How much should we ask?”
“I was joking. It was a joke. And what ‘we’? I’m not part of this!”
“Oh… but how much though?”
“Look, you’re crazy… £150 a month?”
“Is that how much our relationship’s worth to you? I thought you loved me…”
“£200?”
“I love you too!”