I had been considering some sort of body modification for several years. But had never been able to work up the courage to actually go through with it. As I approached a certain age in my life, I realized that I was at a point that I wanted to do something for myself. I am no teenager. I did not have to worry about parental consent or having to hide it from my parents (though I'm sure even at my age they would not be supportive - parents are parents). Nor did I have to consider how a body modification would affect my job - I am self-employed. Still, I put off my decision until two events caused me to make the choice.
At A Glance Author Victoria Contact Victoria@bme.anon Artist Evil Studio Capitol City Tattoo Location Alabama (yes, it sucks) The first event was a porno movie. No, it was not about piercing. I don't know what it was about (do porno movies even have a plot?!?!?!?). However, one of the girls in the movie had her tongue pierced. Now, I had always said that I would never voluntarily stick my tongue out and let someone punch a hole in it. After watching her tongue in action, I have to admit I was willing to reconsider my hasty decision. I mulled my choices over in my head. While on the one hand, the tongue piercing did look rather fetching and appeared to have quite an effect on the others in the movie. BUT, I mean, piercing my tongue!!!!!! The very thought of it sent shivers down my spine. I imagined the pain (ouch). I rewound the movie. I imagined the pleasure (owwww). Okay, I knew I was going to have to give this more thought. Again I found myself putting off taking any real decisive action on the subject. Some more time passes. . . .
The second event - my high school reunion. Now, it is not necessary to reveal just what year my reunion was celebrating (I already said I am not a teenager. . .or someone's granny). Let's just say it was a "milestone" event. 'Nuff said. As the time of the reunion drew nearer, I began to wonder how the passing of the years had affected the people that I had graduated with. After high school, I went on to college and left that area. I never really kept in touch with anyone from high school. Most people's reaction to going to their reunion might be to go on a crash diet or get a new hair cut. I wanted to do something that would make more of a statement than a different hair part. Again, the idea popped into my head about the body modification. . .and my tongue.
I was out with my husband one evening running errands. While we were out, we decided to stop for a bite to eat (which was a good thing as it turned out). As we were sitting there discussing what to do and where to go next, I mentioned to him that I had been considering (again) getting "something" pierced. He knew my fascination with body piercings. I started out talking about getting my belly button pierced. In fact, I had done quite a bit of research on that kind of piercing. As I talked to him, I offhandedly mentioned that I was leaning towards getting my tongue pierced. Since he had heard me ramble on and on about this subject for years, he just nodded his head in agreement (I suppose he thought the quicker he agreed, the quicker I would shut up). Then, I said something that I had never said in my previous conversations about body modifications. . ."let's stop by that shop on the way home so that I can ask a professional some of my questions." I could tell by his reaction that he was intrigued enough to go along with my request. Needless to say, it was our next stop.
I had driven past "Capitol City Tattoo" a million times. And, every time the thought was there to stop in and have a chat about piercings and tattoos - but never did. Now, I was committed to going through with it. Now, mind you, I was just stopping in to ask a few questions. I thought a few questions and then I'd go home to sit on it for a while. We pulled into the parking lot and I was relieved to see that there were hardly any cars in the parking lot. We entered the shop and there was only one guy there. He asked if he could help us and my husband said, "yeah, she has some questions about piercings." The guy said that his piercer was out and would be back in a few minutes, but that he would try to answer some of my questions. My first question was about pain. I asked him just how painful it is to have your belly button pierced. He said "somewhat" but not unbearable. I asked him what was the easiest piercing (I wanted to get something of a "benchmark" for the pain factor). Without hesitating he said, "tongue." Just about that time in walked the piercer. I started asking him various questions about piercings. Again, he reiterated that the tongue was the easiest piercing considering pain, aftercare, and recovery. Well, that did it. The belly button was out. The tongue was in. Before I could have second thoughts, the debit card was swiped and the autoclave was on. I had about 10 minutes left with my "un-holey" tongue.
I tried very hard during that long ten minute span NOT to think about what I was about to do. I looked at tattoos. I asked questions about tattoos. I joked. I paced. I had to pee. Just about that time "Evil" came out and said it was time to come back (oh, I almost forgot to mention that the piercer's name was Evil. . .it seemed kinda redundant). I nervously made my way behind the counter and back to his room. Fearing that I would lose control of my "bodily functions," I told Evil that I needed to use the facilities. He made a funny face and I confessed that I was worried that if the pain was too intense that I might pee on his table. . .or worse. Soon I was back in his room with an empty bladder and butterflies the size of condors in my stomach. Evil quickly put me at ease and even managed to get a laugh out of me. He had me rinse my mouth with mouthwash for what seemed like an eternity. As I spit out the liquid, I was surprised that my mouth was feeling rather numb. He readied his equipment (no, I never looked at the prep table. . .he could've been shoving an ice pick through my tongue for all I knew) and stood directly in front of me. I thought about mentioning how close his "package" was to my knees and how that might not be such a good idea. But he had already instructed me to stick my tongue out as far as I could. I closed my eyes and, voluntarily, stuck my tongue out. . .waaaayyyyy out. I know Evil must've been talking during this. Whether he was talking to me or my husband, I don't know. I was on a beach somewhere in the Pacific when I felt a burning sensation on the bottom of my tongue. Then, almost as quickly, Evil was saying that all he had to do was screw the ball on the bar. It was over. . . kinda like Christmas morning when you're 6 years old. . . that quick. I opened my eyes and I'm sitting there with my tongue hanging out and Evil said "you can put it back in your mouth now, I'm finished."
At first, I didn't want to look at my tongue. I thought I would see something that would cause me to question my sanity. Curiosity got the better of me and within the hour, I couldn't pry myself away from the mirror. Other than some mild swelling and not being able to eat very well the first few days, my recovery has been hardly anything at all. I am still amazed that I actually went through with it and it has been almost three weeks since I had it done. My reunion is this week. Needless to say, I plan to show off my newly decorated tongue. I am already considering what will be my next piercing. I cannot say enough good things about my tongue piercing, Capitol City and Evil. If you are considering piercing your tongue but have put if off because of the pain factor. . .don't. I regret that I waited this long.