So, alright. I finally decided, after a long, long wait and much pondering, that I wanted to get my nape pierced. I know this guy, who probably prefers to remain nameless, because he screwed it up pretty badly. But he claimed that he knew how to do surface piercing. I went to his house late one evening, and, handing him 20 bucks, sat down in his comfortable overstuffed couch and tried to relax.
At A Glance Author me. Contact ParanoidAndroid@bottomless-abyss-of-suckitude.com When A month ago Artist a friend. Studio shhh..... Location ............ For a long while, I thought I was a big fan of pain. I found out, that day, that I am only a big fan of self-induced pain. For this pain was worse than any other pain I have ever experienced. The fact that he did it wrong may have something to do with it though. But anyway, he grabs his needle, after, hopefully, disinfecting it. I was too paralyzed with fear to bother asking him if the needle was clean or not. He could have jabbed me with a needle that was infected with the Ebola virus, but at the time, I could have cared less. I normally don't get scared in these situations-I've had much worse done to me. But this kid's dark, badly lit basement and the stench of beer and weed on his breath made me a bit uneasy. But since I was friends with him and all, I let his bad breath and creepy presence slide.
My "friend," then grabbing the needle, put his hand on my head, and told me to relax. I lurched my head forward, letting it hang lifelessly between my shoulders, and waited for impact. He stretched out the back of my neck a bit, and slowly stuck the needle in.
I slightly twitched, but, trying to remain calm, bit my lip and pretended that I didn't feel any pain. The pain, however, was so extreme, that I felt as if I would pass out. My eyes slowly rolled into the back of my head, and I began to feel limp and weak. I tried to keep myself focused, but on what? The Mickey Mouse clock on the wall? The cat, sleeping on the couch? I spent so much time trying to focus on what I should focus on, that I somewhat lost track of time. I suddenly realized that this needle had been in my neck for way too long. Had he fallen asleep?
I called out his name, and, after what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, he responded. A low grunt emanated from his mouth, sounding as if he was concentrating deeply on my neck. "I can't get the needle through," he mumbled.
I think my heart may have skipped a beat at this news. He can't get the needle through. Wonderful.
After a few more minutes of poking, he pulled the needle out, and said to me, "I'll try again, if you're down with that." What could I say? I had given him the money already. I had already gone though mass amounts of pain-I might as well suffer through some more.
After a few failed attempts to find the first hole, he stuck the needle in again. The same searing pain swept through my body once again. But this time, it was more severe. Because this time, he actually got the needle through-six times. Each time, of course, was wrong. The first time it was crooked, the second time, the piercing was too long. The third time-too short. Each time was yet another fuck up, and yet another ten minutes of pain. After sitting on this couch, which was now growing quite uncomfortable, for about an hour and a half, I simply couldn't stand the pain anymore. He didn't know what he was doing. He was smashed for all I knew. I decided to give up. I pushed the needle away from my neck, and pushed my limp, numb body off of the couch. He gave me the money back, of course, and apologized about a trillion times, but I quickly accepted, knowing that the quicker I made him feel better, the quicker I could get to my car and scream.
When I got home, I must admit, I was a bit disappointed. I had been waiting for so long to get my nape pierced, and all was ruined by some kid that had no clue what was going on. I went in my room to change, and, in taking my shirt off, found a nice puddle of dried blood on the back. I grabbed at the back of my neck, and felt a damn war zone. I was running my finger over hundreds of tiny little bumps of skin, where the needle had gone through. I could already tell that my skin was red and swollen. If I rubbed hard enough, some of the dried blood would clump up and roll down my back. At least the pain had died down a bit.
Next time I want to get something pierced, I will make sure to go to a professional. They usually know what they are doing. But now that I sit back and think about that day, I wonder-exactly how hard is it to push a needle through a chunk of skin? WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT KID'S PROBLEM?????