1. You Want Another One. Immediately.
You arrive home feeling suddenly starving and overly exalted about this new exotic addition to your body. You carefully unwrap your wrist like it's a christmas present from your grandparents (it's usually something fragile, like a glass paper weight from their summer holiday to Cornwall), and stare at the finished product. You can't believe that this is part of you now: you'll have this until the day you die (and longer if you want to be buried). This little star, this indicator of your bright new future, will be in photos for the rest of time. It'll be there when you get your next job (please God don't let this tattoo prevent me from being employed); it'll be there on your wedding day; it'll be there if and when you have children. There's so much for you ahead, little star. You are part of me now. You love your new tattoo. When can you get another one?