Having had so many customers during the years, Micah was pretty sure when he was looking at someone who actually wanted a tattoo and someone who was being pressured into it. Many times, people would come into his tattoo parlor asking for a tattoo only because their friends had talked them into it. He could spot them from a mile away. He would always talk to these people, make them realize that a tattoo was for a lifetime, and that they shouldn't get one unless they were absolutely sure. There were those that would take this warning and wisely back out. Then there were the other ones who were either too stubborn or too scared of the ridicule from their friends that they decided to go through with it anyway. Micah would have no choice but to do it.
That was now he could tell just by looking at Liam that he was not the tattoo kind of guy. If Micah had to guess, if Liam ever did get a tattoo, he would probably regret it a few hours later, maybe a few days at the most. That was his guesstimate, though. But it was not a bad thing. The fact that the guy hadn't been marked up yet was a sign that he probably knew this about himself and wouldn't be making any last minute decisions anytime soon. Micah also went by a no-drunks policy, as he would never let somebody get a tattoo while high or hammered. But he knew all tattoo parlors followed that policy (even if they were supposed to). So he could only hope that even drunk this guy had enough sense not to waltz into a tattoo parlor looking for some ink.
Micah grinned widely. "Oh, yeah? Then here's to us winning and not losing it big in Vegas, yeah?" He chuckled as he reached over to clink their glasses together before he downed the rest of his coke. He gestured for another as he kept his eyes on the other man. "When you heading back? Maybe we can head over together and see if our luck doubles being around each other, eh?" He gave a quick, "Ah, thank you!" to the bartender as she slid him another drink.