Now that I have sufficiently covered my ass let me drop my pants.

11:21 p.m. - Monday, Sept. 26, 2005

WARNING:
If you are weak-stomached, ultra conservative, have a fear of the mentions of any sort of bad weather, have an insatiable addiction to farm animals, a phobia associated with doctors offices or asphyxiation, maybe a complex due to your addiction or repulsion to physical exercise or aquatic life, or are just completely unsure of your own personal limits� STOP READING NOW.

Ok now that I have sufficiently covered my ass let me drop my pants.

I am getting a bit of "whaa?" from a few of you. Just hold your horses. No horses? ok, cows? chickens? pigs? No farm animals, eh? ok dogs? cats? birds? fish? ok just hold your breath. But not for too long. Shit. Ok Don't hold your breath! Just... you know what? Just keep reading, ok? ok.

So in light of Hurricane Rita, we had a Houston evacuee that actually did make it around the shit storm of a traffic jam and over to our place. (Actually by the time she left it was pretty well known that Houston was not going to be as traumatized as originally thought, but all the stores were closed, phone calls resulted in "all circuits are busy now" messages, and for the mere purpose of escaping boredom she headed to our place. Regardless the circumstances she was warmly welcomed by us.)

Well this particular friend for the last 4 months of so has been on this "kick my own ass, exercise, eat right, loose weight" regime. And honestly, she looks fantastic! She decided she wanted to reward herself while she was here. She wanted to pierce her belly button. Sounded great to us, and were honored to be the ones to take her to get it done.

Sir, the Rita escapee and I all climb into the Tahoe and head on down the road a piece. We arrive at a well known piercing/tattooing establishment. (If you have ever been to one of these businesses maybe you can explain to me what seems to be the exact same heavily inked and metallic people that linger around the outside of everyone of these establishments. Is this their job maybe? Do they get paid to add to the ambiance? This is something that maybe someone could research. Not me. But someone could.)

ANYway. We snake our way around the outside minglers, and enter the shop. They have the most incredible salt water aquarium I have ever seen in such an establishment! Big fish, little fish. Blue fish, yellow fish. (and now I am getting a little too Dr. Seuss-like.) Live rock and coral. An anemone complete with two clown fish that were all but tethered to it. It was awesome. I stared into it for a good 20 minutes and never stopped spotting something new. I so wish I could have one of those in my house!

An employee emerges from somewhere, I missed where because I was staring into the fish tank, and starts discussing the services about which our friend is inquiring. When finished he looks to us for our inquiries. We look at each other, shrug our shoulders and say "Well? We're here. Why not?" We had actually been talking about getting pierced for quite some time anyway, but we were always putting it off for one reason or another. So the three of us fill out our forms, hand over our id's and awaited our fates.

Sir goes first. He is getting his nipples pierced. Yes, both of them. The piercing professional, complete with tattoo sleeves, jet black unkempt hair, black rectangular rimmed glasses, snaps on a pair of latex gloves and goes to work. Sir lays down on a table very much like one you would find in a doctor's office. Our latex clad piercing artist now cleans each of his nipples thoroughly and neatly marks the entry and exit point for the needle and then jewelry. He then applies the forceps to the first nipple.

Ok so he clamped down on that thing like a mini, out of control, mammogram machine. I could see on his face that he was only doing what needed to be done � there was really no hint of malice showing in his expression. Sir�s eyes squeezed shut and his teeth gritted. After the piercer� piercist? Whatever, you know who I mean. was satisfied that everything was lined up properly he removed a needle from its sterile packaging and instructed Sir to take in a deep breath and the let it out slowly. Sir did as he was instructed and the piercing dude sent the needle through. He then picked up a horseshoe shaped jewelry piece and sent the needle out the otherside with the jewelry moving swiftly through behind it. He then added the ball to close of the open end of the horseshoe, turned to the sharps container and dropped the needle in securely.

He followed this same order of event for the other nipple only changing his position on the side of the bed closet to the current nipple being pierced. I watched it all. It was really kind of cool. Not the pain factor. The jewelry looked hot. And the fact that there was no syringe attached to the needle meant that I would not pass out from watching. Don�t know why that is � but I accept it for what it is. Then Sir was done and off the table viewing his new body adornment, and the piercer was cleaning the table for the next victim� our Rita escapee.

She had been outside the room gazing into the salt water aquarium during Sir�s procedure attempting to calm herself. She was a bit nervous. Up until now the her earrings permanently filled the only holes in her body other than that with which she had been born. The piercer �ever health conscious and professional- snapped on a new set of latex gloves, laid her down on the table and began cleaning, marking and clamping. She grabbed onto me as he had her do the breathing thing to send the needle and then the jewelry through. It was all very quick, and she admitted that it had not hurt near as much as she thought it would. (Me, personally, when I had mine done � both times � it HURT like HELL!!) She was soon off the table and admiring her new metallic appendage in the mirror, and the piercing wonder was cleaning the table again in preparation for me.

This time he also covered the table with that paper sheet you find at the doctor�s office � at first I looked at it curious and then decided that different piercings require different protocol. Now the door to the room was closed, and he the table morphed before my eyes into a scene from the OBGYN office� the stirrups appeared. I inhaled and exhaled deeply, stripped down to my t-shirt and socks and hopped up onto the table. Ok � so it was my right, outer labia I was getting pierced. It could have been my hood, but so many people have those these days that I wanted something different.

As he snapped on a new pair of latex gloves, I placed my feet in the stirrups and layed back. The Rita escapee and I were joshing about the gyno scene. Then he sat down at the end of the table, between my legs and said, �I need you to move down closer to the edge of the table please.� I looked at my friend. She looked at me. We both burst out laughing! The men in the room were a bit confused, and maybe you men reading this still are, but you women reading are probably right in sync with our humor at his request.

So I scoot down, and he begins the process of cleansing and marking. He then clamped the forceps down, and I expected to feel pain associated with this. But no. There wasn�t. I thought, �Great! This is going to be a snap! Probably sharp intake of breath kind of pain. Maybe a gritted, �Geeze! That hurt!� should be it.� He must have been thinking the same after having spent the last 30 mins with me in the room as he performed 3 other piercings, and me making very calm comments and jokes here and there, so he was in complete relaxation mode.

He instructs me to take in my breath and let it out slowly. As I am letting out my breath he begins to push the needle through.

OMFG! The sudden burst of intense, searing pain began to radiate from my nether regions.

The course of events occurring next all happened so fast, it took me a day and a half to think about it and realize what had actually happened!

My first reaction was to scream. And I followed through with that reaction I think. My next reaction was to jerk my knees up, but to do so I would probably nail the piercer in the head. That, in this situation, would not have been good. So, in order to bear down through the pain and not move or kick my piercer, I dug my heels into the stirrups and cried out through my gritted teeth. This seemed rather well thought out in the nanosecond I had to plan it. There was one condition of the situation that I had not factored into the equation.

The paper sheet.

Yes, the paper sheet had virtually turned the table on which I was laying into a potential slip and slide! So when I dug in my heels I shot back across the table an easy 12 inches. I heard some noise and commotion outside of my own yelping, but wasn�t sure at the time what it was. Sir later informed me that it had been the voice of panic coming from the piercist. �ohmygoddon�tdothat!� I believe is a pretty close interpretation of what he exclaimed.

I was stunned. That had not been part of my plan, and I was immediately concerned about the well being of my piercing practitioner. Had I cause him to puncture his hand? His finger? His eye? Hell! Who knows! But he calmed himself quickly and surveyed the needle�s entry and exit point. He said, �It�s ok. It�s ok. We actually didn�t miss the mark. It�s good.� I then let him finish inserting the jewelry, and with very little extra pain the job was complete. I apologized again, still a bit confused as what and how everything had happened, checked out the completed work, and told Sir to please, �TIP. Him. Well.� I think he got about a $25.00 tip which he more than graciously accepted as I began redressing myself.

When we emerged we went out to the counter, retrieved our id�s, took our copies of the receipts and headed out the door.

Luckily enough, neither my friend nor I experienced any pain after that. Slight tenderness is worst of it at this point and considering � HellO-o! It�s a puncture wound! I think it�s better than might have been expected. Sir was pretty achey for a while that night, but it passed quickly.

We all talked about it and how lucky I was. I had been so concerned with the piercer�s safety that I had not considered that I might have suddenly been in the market for about six new pieces of jewelry.

I have never heard a story of a piercing being that eventful. Do you think that it was just me? Or do you reckon stuff like that happens more often than talked about? LOL!