Birthday Piercings

Today was my birthday, and I am now 20 years old. One more year until I can buy alcohol legally. I got a microwave, a scarf, Starbucks gift cards, and two toasters. Oh, and as a present to myself, I got my nose pierced.

My dear friend Lauren went with me for moral support and to get an industrial put in her ear (for those of you who don't know, an industrial is a metal bar that goes through two places in the upper part of your ear). When we walked into the tattoo parlor, we were greeted by the friendly personnel that worked there. Each one had body art covering nearly every inch of their exposed skin, which made the experience feel that much more authentic. One guy asked us what we would like done, and Lauren very energetically said, "We'd like you to put some holes in our bodies." They liked that response very much. So they photocopied our ID's, charged us a ridiculously large sum of money, and marched us back to a tiny room with a black curtain covering the doorway.

Lauren was the first to go. The guy who was doing the piercing was a nice man named Tuna. He explained the necessary procedures for pre- and post-piercing. He made Lauren lie down on her side, take a few deep breaths, and then he shoved the bar through her ear. She sat up and said she felt a little dizzy, so I went to get her a cup of water. When I got back, Tuna was holding Lauren's shoulders, and she was having convulsions. Her face was ashen, and her lips had lost all color. Needless to say, this was a bit alarming, but as it turns out, Lauren had merely passed out, and Tuna had the situation under control. He gave Lauren a glucose tablet and I made a couple more trips to the water fountain. When she was able to stand up, it was my turn.

Getting my nose pierced was not nearly as dramatic or traumatizing as Lauren's experience, but it definitely hurt--even more than my tattoo had (I had gotten said tattoo Spring Break of my freshman year of college).Tuna put an ink dot on the right side of my nose to show where the piercing would be, then told me to take a few deep breaths. He put a cork-looking-thing up the inside of my nose and shoved something metal and pointy into it from the outside of my nose. My right eye watered, and my face screwed up into an expression of disapproval. Then he pulled the nose ring through the hole, and voilà!

Of course, when my father saw my newest piercing, he frowned and shook his head, saying, "Didn't you already have enough holes in your body?" He now refers to it as my "metal booger." Thanks Dad.