Hello, I am Sophia Claire Park, a quirky, silly sales clerk, and a person of dual natures. I was outside smoking a cigarette this early morning and was suddenly struck with a marvelous idea: "write down my first piercing experience while it's still fresh in my head, maybe get something concrete out of it!" So here it is: A Tattooed Girl's First Piercing Experience, in eight hundred words or more (sorry, I'm a total smart ass).
At A Glance Author sophia claire park Contact sophia claire park@bme.anon When It just happened Artist cherri Studio scaredy cat tattoo Location reseda, california, usa I'd been itching for a fourth tattoo piece, something I'm always wanting but never have enough money or guts to do: a half sleeve, inspired by the innocence of childhood. My first thought was, borrow the money, it'll be worth it! But, alas, I'm not in the habit of making rich friends or promises I can't keep (like returning a loan), especially when I'm that much less employable. So it hit me, get that piercing you've wanted for a year and a half, it's less expensive and would be less permanent should the need arise to look a bit more "proper"—whatever that means! Also, I'd never had a piercing but my best girlfriend has many mods of that sort, and has always spoken highly of the process and the outcome. So there it was, I was getting my vertical labret.
I'd decided on a geographic location (The San Fernando Valley) that was close enough for a friend to drive me incase I felt light headed afterwards, and far enough away from the seediness of my hometown tattoo and piercing parlor, which still doesn't feel conducive to cleanliness. I counted on serendipity to do its job, and took the first number 411 gave me for a tattoo parlor, Scaredy Cat Tattoos. I figured if it wasn't the right place (as far as cleanliness, atmosphere, service, etc.) I could leave and look for another. So I called and made an appointment with an incredibly kind and funny woman named Cherri. Already, I was pumped and looking forward to what I hoped would be a great encounter.
As soon as I got in the store, I knew it was the place I was supposed to be. Providence had worked well, and the next thing I knew Cherri was marking my lip. Being afraid of the unknown (especially the potentially painful unknown), I was most concerned with how it would feel. The thought of my friends and I chatting in depth about the type of transcendence we experienced during a mod did not even enter my mind—to me this was different, something to quench a petty thirst or a means to an immature end, and by no means anything all that important. What can I say? Tattoos to this point had been more my style. I'd only had my ears pierced, and once at that.
I was scared and very nervous as she sanitized and marked me, eyeing my lips very carefully for any noticeable asymmetry in her positioning of the marks that would determine the entrance and exit of the 12 gauge hollow needle through my lower lip.
The next part is a little blurry for me, yet so starkly carved into my consciousness that I will never question its reality. I didn't pass out, but I left my body and mind for a moment, just to watch from the outside and savor the pure and unquestionable intensity of it all.
I remember Cherri applying the clamps, which she did carefully, as not to hurt me. It seemed like a picot-second and it was done, but each action and movement, the counting down, the exit of the needle, the jewelry going in, it's all so very precise and well-recalled in my mind.
But I'm not writing to talk about the physicality of it all; I want to share something more. The feeling was comfortably warm and peaceful. I feel silly waxing metaphysical like this, but I will not apologize; it was bliss, the most perfect first experience of my life. Even with my thorough vocabulary, taught to me through years of parochial schooling, I struggle to write about this experience without mitigating it to something far more mediocre than it is. I feel, for lack of better words, that nirvana, joy, and peace, somehow snuck up on my unsuspecting soul. I don't want this to sound trite or cliché, but I truly transcended the pain. I was aware of the sting, fully knowing what was going on, where everything was going and passing through. However, it was so little compared to the surprise elation that my mind was feeling.
To be clearer, the pain was just that, pain. It was fully felt, but hardly recognized or perhaps even largely unrealized. It was odd, seeing myself as though I was someone else, leaning in close for a better look. I could see myself from my vacant body's eyes, blankly gazing into the full-length mirror directly in front of me, and also from the eyes of my floating self.
I think Cherri, having done a lot of piercing on a lot of people, sensed my different state of mind, but perhaps did not recognize what it was. With 3 words, I was snapped back into this reality. Are you O.K., she asked, and I was, I told her. It didn't even hit me what had happened. I stood up, looked at myself in the mirror, newly pierced and very happy with the physical outcome, tipped her, and asked about maintenance. She suggested Bactine drops on a cotton swab, twice a day, and said I'd need shorter jewelry in about 2 or 3 weeks.
I'm now on my third day, and swelling was very minimal. I've purchased the drops she recommended and am using them in the morning and at night, and I'm trying not to smoke as much, incase it should irritate the fresh vertical labret piercing that now sits on my lip as a reminder of the power I possess, entirely of mind. This experience was special for me; it was dual, as I am dual.
(1,009 words, to be exact ; )