Piercing Day: A Celebration
I donned a borrowed black leather jacket (complete with fly-away-fringe) and a pair of mismatched gloves (one skinny, black leather glove for the left hand and one of Nick's brown leather work gloves on the right), wrapped my bright green scarf Allie knit me around my head, put on sunglasses, and I was ready to go. I looked quite ridiculous, but I thought, who cares? I am queen for the day, damnit.
I was escorted to the tattoo and peircing parlor by my bodyguards. In actuality, it was Nick and his friend, but they were both so tough with their long hair and muscles and harley glares - particularly Nick's friend, who stared back at you with a cigarette between his lips and the smoke coming out his nose. Everywhere I went people stared out their car windows at us, and I felt like I was part of a glamorous parade - Never mind the fact that it was a cool day and they were probably thinking we were crazy.
Hunched behind Nick, holding on for dear life, we sped down to East Peoria and met my sister at the parlor, where I managed to spend entirely too long deciding between two new tattoos, a nose peircing, an eyebrow peircing, or nipple peircings. It was a tough call.
Ol' friendly guy (I say that with great sarcasm) came out to assist me with my decision, and I ended up following him and his completely-green-tattood-face into the back where a place to sit and sharp tools awaited me. I got situated and he sanitized some needles, wrapped tiny rubber bands around a clamp, and then made a mark on my nose where he would strike. I said that I didn't like the place he marked, and he scowled and made a new one.
"Yes, that one will do," I said. I smiled at him and he stared at me blankly.
Nick and his friend sort of squirmed while the man came at me with the clamp while Rachel moved in closer and took my hand. Just before he released the clamp I asked him what he was going to do. Being all sunshine, he stared at me with his eyes narrowed and asked, "What?"
I smiled as sweetly as possible "I mean, how will this happen?" I asked. "Oh," he said grunting, "I'm going to clamp it, then stick the needle in, then follow it with the stud and pull the needle out."
"Will it bleed?" I asked, still smiling. I was determined to make him smile back at me.
"Maybe," he replied. He didn't smile.
"Okay," I said and took a deep breath. He did as he said he would, and Rachel made some noises and gripped my hand. My eyes watered the minute I felt the clamp close down and pull on my nostril. He kept going, pulling and yanking at it, while Nick and his friend turned around and walked away, unable to watch. I just kept taking deep breaths with my lips slightly parted and then he was done.
As he wiped bactine on it and gave me after-care instructions, Nick came back to see how it went. Rachel informed him that she was the one who had to squeeze a hand and I was fine. I smiled cheerfully one more time at my surgeon and then got my money out. I wondered, do you tip for this kind of thing?
We left soon after I made an appointment for my tattoos, and even though the guy never smiled, he did knock off ten dollars for me for no apparent reason. So maybe all those smiles did make a difference. Or maybe he thought I was brave. Or cute. Or stupid.
My boys and I got back on the bikes and proceeded to visit Keystone, where Nick picked up his paycheck, and we sat outside by the bikes waiting, smoking cigarettes and looking tough. Then we headed to the nearest Harley Davidson store and the Biker's Dream shop. I did my best to look like I fit in while Nick and his friend wandered around the stores, commenting on prices and the styles of things. I was preoccupied with passing mirrors, where I could see my new nose stud. I found a few things that sparked my interest, but nothing practical. It was all stuff I'd have to acquire a biker image for, and I wasn't doing a very good job just yet with my awkward get-up and red nose. I had the wind blown hair and motorcycle chick strut, but I think my gap denim overalls gave me away.
After windowshopping, we went to a bar, and by then my nose was numb from the cold and I couldn't feel any pain. I walked in between my boys and we settled at the bar where the waitresses got us drinks. She didn't seem to care what age I was, but I got a Dr. Pepper anyway, thanks to my no-alcoholic-beverages-medication and much to my irritation. Two beers and a Dr. Pepper for the preppy girl sandwiched between the biker dudes.
After our drinks, we moved into the pool area where Nick's brother Shawn showed up and started a game of pool. Pretty soon my sister arrived and we were all having a ball, making jokes about whether or not my stud would shoot out of my nose if I sneezed, and how many calls Rachel was going to get from the gossip chain to tell her Nick had a blonde on the back of his bike today.
Three games of pool, one game of darts, three packs of cigarettes, eight beers, two Dr. Peppers, three blt's, and five breadsticks later, we were pretty sedated. Nick congratulated me on becoming an excellent bike rider (once I relaxed and he taught me how to get on and off correctly). I beamed in response and then grabbed the table when I sensed a sneeze coming on. As soon as I mentioned it, they all ducked under the table and started laughing.
I sneezed, and no, the stud didn't shoot out like it was old faithful or something. By then, my nose was no longer numb but I felt like I had a giant, sore booger inside. It ocurred to me that blowing my nose was going to be interesting.
The last song I entered on the jukebox finished and we gathered up our things and headed out. I left my biker clothes and accessories at Nick and Rachel's and thanked them for a great day. As I headed out the door, Rachel yelled to have me call her and tell her what mom said when she saw my nose.
I smiled as I started my car, thinking about my celebration day, and how good it felt to be alive. If it takes a little celebration every week I make it without barfing, then there's going to have to be a celebration every week. The point is, I'm going to get better. And for every inch of strength and hope I get, another piece of me falls into place. And all along the way I have these people, all kinds of people, who are my helpers and healers and lovers. They give a little bit of love, and I give a little bit right back. And we all manage just fine.
