Once upon a time, in a city, well not too far from here, I got my eyebrow pierced. It all started on Friday evening on South Street in Philadelphia. I was with my parents and sister, walking around, shopping, when I brought up the subject of having my eyebrow pierced. By the grace of some spirit I talked my parents into it, which is a great achievement, considering they aren't too down with piercing to begin with. Anyway, we came upon Inferno Body Piercing and went inside. After my mother asked a few short questions I was told since I didn't have my birth certificate I couldn't be pierced. I demanded to be brought back the next day so as my parents couldn't cop out on me and go back on what they already said they'd let me get. I came back the next day, photo I.D. and birth certificate in hand. I filled out a few forms. You know, the usual consent-to-procedure-will-not-sue-if-death-occurs thing. Next I waited for about fifteen minutes before Jamie, the artist who pierced me, popped out and said "Adam R**********. Come on back." He sat me down on a large steel chair, kind of like in the dentist office only made of a steel, not leather. He prepared everything, needle, cleaning stuff, and so on. The he marked my eyebrow with a blue Sharpy marker and said "Sit up striahgt and take three deep breathes in and out". I grasped my mothers hand (Oh you would've too if it was your first piercing and she was ready to pass out) and in the middle of my second or third breathe he pushed the needle through and as quick as one, two, three, I was the proud owner of a shiny new eyebrow ring. After the procedure he explained the aftercare. I was told to use warm salt water one it about twice a day while it was new. Meanwhile, my dad and sister were at the Gap and my mother and I went down to join them. Both my sister and father gave good responses. That day will be a story for the grand children.
At A Glance Author adam When A year ago Artist Jamie Studio Inferno Body Piercing Location Philadelphia, Pa When I came back to school Monday I got a great response. I don't think most of the people who said they liked it were aware of my deep interest and feeling about piercing. Most of the people in my school with piercing do it for sheer asthetic reasons, which I can't argue with becasue all people act out of asthetic purposes. However, I wish people looked closer into things before they dive into them. I see kids walking around with tounge rings and such without even realizing that this ritual dates back thousands of years with tribes in Asia and Africa. Body Modification has been made to be another mainstream mockery in America, but here at BME, I see a group of people truly dedicated to keeping it the way it was, despite mainstream influence. Anyway, back to the story.
It's been over a year since I had it done. I'm most likely going to get it re-pierced soon because it's starting to grow out. Anyway, I first had to take it out for my job at Shoprite (food store) a few months ago because of their dumb policy. Well I took it out and as soon as I did I began losing jewelry. I lost my first piece, the original, when a ball dropped down the sink. I was the idiot who didn't close the drain. Then I put in a black, niobium captive bead ring, which I lost during gym class, while doing crunches. Then I put in a 16 gauge straight barbell, which had dice on either end. Then I bought a 14 gauge circular barbell but one night I was putting it in and I cut the top hole. I decided this ring wasn't for me, too much of a pain to put in and out everyday. So then it was back to the dice barbell. I took it out for work on evening, put it in my breast pocket, and then I never saw it again. So then it was back to the original 16 gauge curved barbell with no clo sing ball. I wore that piece for two weeks or so, until I got to the mall. Then I bought an 18 gauge captive bead. It was perfect but again, I lost the closing ball to it. I was playing hockey one night, and I began to put the jewelry back in and well, what do you know. The damn ball pops off into the grass and I never see it again. The moral of the story you ask?
There is no moral, it's a story about me loosing or loosing a piece of every goddamn eyebrow ring I buy. Jesus you people look too much into things.