Hopefully you know what I'm talking about when I say I had... well, a hankering, for lack of a better word. That random, nagging feeling that is telling you to go and get a semi-permanent piece of metal speared through your flesh. Yeah, you know the one!
At A Glance Author jewrunning Contact jewrunning@bme.anon When A week ago Artist The big guy with the tattoos. Yeah, that one. Studio Ace Tattoo Location New Hope, MN But what? There are so many interesting places to pierce, and thus far my collection is pretty unremarkable. Two in each lobe, a standard belly button, and a horrifically failed helix. (Said helix had scared me away from piercing for a while, but that was my own fault. I couldn't have been older than 15, and Claire's seemed like a perfectly adequate place! Who cared about sterile tools and experienced piercers; they had pink walls! -Let us all learn from this: Go to a reputable piercer!) I didn't spare it much thought, something was sure to strike me.
Lo and behold, not more than a week later did I stumble over an old friend whose rook was so elegantly hugged by two petite sterling balls. It was subtle, gorgeous, and not excruciatingly common. Just what I was looking for.
Later that day I situated myself in front of the computer for a little pre-piercing research. The usual warnings of rejection, infection and the dreaded ear collapse- definitely something to heed, but certainly nothing to stop me. I gathered the usual aftercare information (dial soap and sea salts were the winners.) and snagged the address for the tattoo shop that did my belly button piercing.
It was a quick 20 minute drive, and next thing I know I'm walking into the familiar, tiny shop. It looked... much less professional than it had the first time. I'd spoken with a tattoo savvy friend on the way over, who made a foreboding sort of noise when I told her where I was going. Too late, though! I was already riding the adrenaline.
A big, heavily tattooed guy was quick to ask me what I was getting done that day. After telling him, and battling some weak coercion to get more done, I was seated in the same barber-shop-style chair I sat in three years ago.
From the hot seat it actually looked quite a bit more trustworthy, and that knot of hesitation in my stomach graciously released. The nameless man didn't bother with small talk, or any talk, really. I asked about aftercare, and he said "Leave it the hell alone."
Now, not that the LITHA method doesn't work (because really, theoretically, why not?), but that's not really what I want to hear from the professional. Ah, well. I'll be the one taking care of it anyhow, not the LITHA man.
The conversation-less prep seemed to go on forever, and the silence was only broken when he asked me where exactly I wanted it. I made him mark it, I approved, and then it was on with the clamp. I stared at a jar of tootsie pops; best to put your mind elsewhere. (Like in a jar of candy!)
"Okay, this might suck-" And the needle was through. Smoothly and flawlessly. The pain was absolutely unremarkable. I'm not even sure I winced? I was shocked and pleased, though, to find he did such an excellent puncture. Don't judge a book by it's... lack of social skills?
The jewelry went in with a little more turbulence- I know I winced here. Nothing worse than accidentally jamming something under your fingernail, though. The real snag was when it came down to the large man, with large fingers, screwing in the tiny bottom ball into my tiny ear. There was significant fumbling at this point, and definite gripping of the chair of the arm on my part, but I was flying high on endorphins and adrenaline. After some assistance from a clamp, the ball was finally screwed in, and I was swiveled around to see my brand new piercing.
I fell in love all over again. And now that it was in my own ear, it was even better! I was thrilled, and equally thrilled at how painless the procedure was. I thanked my silent piercer and rode that adrenaline all the way home.
My fancy new rook piercing has been as well behaved as it is beautiful. I threw a little precautionary ice on it a few hours after I'd gotten it, but that was mostly out of the desire to see it without the swelling.
I've been keeping my hair tied back, my phone on my right ear and my clothes have been coming off very carefully around the head. It sees a little dial liquid soap once a day, followed by a warm sea salt bath.
The pain beyond the first day was nearly nonexistent (and even then, the pain wasn't much!), save for driving on the freeway with the windows down. Experience teaches that fresh wounds aren't fond of being pummeled by hot air. Ah well, now we know.
All in all, the experience was so easy (not that it's over, it's but a handful of days old!) that it's spurred the desire for more holes. I think I ought to give my ears a rest for now, though. Nipples, anyone?