"23/m"? What the hell? Yup, you're reading correctly. Although my initial (yeah, there have been more since) navel piercing experience wasn't all that pleasant.
At A Glance Author teenbellylicker Contact teenbellylicker@yahoo.com When Five years ago Artist Name Not Remembered Studio Withheld, Just to be Nice Location Universal City, TX Like any usual American teenage boy growing up in the 1990s, I had big interests in navel piercings...mainly in seeing the display in middle and high school. I admit that I was different (I was metrosexual before the term "metrosexual" was ever coined), but I flirted with the idea of having my navel pierced for a few years...just to feel what it was like to have one. Call it odd if you want, but the idea just intrigued me enough...I mean, if girls looked sexy enough in it, then maybe---just maybe---I could pull it off as a guy.
What would a piercer care about my "pull it off" thoughts, anyhow? As long as I had cash or card and was 18, the needle doesn't care, either.
During the spring semester of my high school senior year, I turned 18, received my first major credit card, and got a part-time job working for a movie theatre. At the movies, people are always in their most casual dress, and after a number of teen and twentysomethings displaying belly jewelry, I finally reasoned that with $5.15/hour in my pocket (big earnings, huh?), I could afford a splurge on my body.
One night after my shift, I took off for the nearest body piercing shop that I knew of...approximately 15 minutes up the interstate. I got to the place at 9:55, about 5 minutes before the place was to close for the night. Not wanting to wait until the next day (and possibly lose this mental buzz of adrenaline over the whole event, I went inside the place (a converted drive-through fast food restaurant, therefore a rather crowded interior with cold fluorescent lighting and the requisite-for-a-tattoo-parlor Metallica blasting through the speakers). Only one guy was on duty with no one else in the shop...he simply asked what I wanted, and I told him a navel piercing.
He told me to go ahead and sit in the chair in the back...even though there was really no 'back' to the place, simply a small standing area of a lobby, the register, a refrigerator, and two dentist chairs. He began assembling his supplies without asking me any questions or information, meaning that he did not:
* check my ID, even though I was 18 (huge sign #1 that I should've left)
* have me fill out any health forms (#2)
* ask if I understood the procedure (#3).
Since I wanted it done, I didn't think twice about it.
When I lifted my shirt up, he swabbed and clamped my navel (without asking about placement choice...#4), and pierced it without a word. He screwed on the jewelry, a CBR (didn't tell me if I had a choice or not on jewelry beforehand...#5), and took my Visa (piercing, and then paying...#6).
I was offered no aftercare instructions (#7, 8, 9, 1,001, 45,104,141, etc.). Fortunately, I knew about salt water solutions from bmezine, so I used that method.
After six weeks, the piercing just felt warm and irritated my skin against the beltline, so I removed it. I eventually had it repierced two months later at a more reputable parlor (South Paw Tattooing in Universal City). The second piercing parlor at least had the courtesy of requesting identification (for their security), having me understand the health risks of the procedure, understand the piercing procedure itself, and choose the spotting and jewelry for the piercing.
I'll add in here that I am by no means an average-sized guy...imagine a Mexican-American Ruben Studdard with glasses and a goatee. So, when I went into the second piercing parlor, my piercer (a very nice and well-qualified, based upon the number of piercings on her body, woman whose name unfortunately escapes me) said that it's very rare for someone of my build (and gender, definitely) to have a navel piercing, so she asked for me to have my photo taken with the piercing.
What can I say? I smiled and obliged. Definite camera lover, and quite possibly by my situation one of their premium sights to behold on their "What in the Hell Kind of Stereotype Breaking is This?" Hall of Fame.
Lesson learned: if it's less than 15 minutes before closing, your body will thank you tremendously if you just wait until tomorrow morning. Most likely, you may find that the piercing parlor you want is not exactly to your comfort liking, nor may it have the most qualified staff---especially if they looked like they were, indeed, the only one working all 12 hours that day.
Your conscience and wallet will, too...$45 for #1, $40 for #2. Could have saved myself the $5 for a better experience, but c'est la 9-hours-wage-wasted-at-that-first-place vie.