Pay Them in Dollars, Fuck Their Daughters
And Turn It Into Wonderland
57293 Curiosities served
We can be heroes, just for one day
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Mood:
last call
Lazy day today...
As if the rest of them aren't?
...spent it catching up on some email and talking to the same ol' types on AIM, when Jean calls me up, telling me she wants to pierce her bottom lip again. She wants to replace her single stud with two hoops.
This, in my opinion, is a bad idea. I tell her so. She asks if I'll go with her to get it done. Of course I agree.
I don't make a very good case against it because it's not really my issue. It's her face and I'm not fucking her, so it doesn't really affect me at all. Still, I'm more than willing to point out that while her female friends are more or less for it (I suspect they like the idea of her doing something that'll make her less attractive and thus, less competition), her male friends are against it, except for her goofball punk boyfriend, who thinks it'll make her look more "harcore." He'll be gone soon, though. I tell her the single one she's got looks good; it works. Has a whole symmetry kind of thing going on with her face. Still, she wants this pair.
We hit a piercing place on Melrose called 13 BC. She talks it over with the guy behind the counter, then a little more with the lady behind the counter. The area is rather sparse. Some jewelry in a case, under the glass of the counter. Wood floors. Incense burning. One room to do the actual piercing in. The two people working there aren't overly pierced (at least facially), but they're knowledgeable. They tell her that if she wants her lip pierced with rings, she's gonna need ones that are larger than she'd prefer. She doesn't like this answer and mulls it over. We leave.
We turn around and hit...I think the place was called Freak Show, but I can't recall exactly. There's only one girl behind the counter. She, too, is not overly pierced. A very unobtrusive nose ring, a belly-button ring, and her ears is all she wears. She's kinda cute; red/blonde hair, if that's possible, and light eyes. The space is larger and more homey; they've got two rooms to work in, and magazines and books scattered about. Two chairs with footstools and a couch. Lots of jewelry under the glass on the counter. We've caught her at closing, but she doesn't seem to mind. Jean talks it over with her, shoots a bit more of the shit. I pick up a Details magazine. She decides she's going for it, throws down a $100 bill and fills out the paperwork. We got into the little room, where they talk and measure, and whatnot. The room, of course, looks like a doctor's office, except for the deli mustard colour of the walls. (People will tell you that if the piercing place you go to does not resemble a doctor's office, run the other fucking way.) A little of what I presume to be idiodine, gloves, a marker to make the sure the right points are pierced, some neosporin-type gel, latex gloves and it's rock and roll. I watch her.
"Breathe in, hold it. Breathe out, hard."
She punctures the lip with a long needle.
Bang.
No blood. No expression from Jean at all. The former surprises me slightly, not because I expected there to be any, but because I didn't really know why there wasn't. She explained afterwards, of course.
She corks the end of the needle that went through and sticks the hoop on the other end, pulling it through as she goes.
Repeat on the other side.
"Breathe in, hold it. Breathe out, hard."
Bang.
As stated, Jean's had this done before and the girl is, at the very least, an accomplished journeyman in the field.
Two rings done, clean as can be. As everyone was aware, the lips have begun to swell immediately. They're chatting all the while, of course. Jean had one of her nipples done once; says if you can take that, you can deal with anything. She got rid of it, though; too uncomfortable, wouldn't heal right (though it probably would have if she'd left it a little longer).
We arrived ten minutes before closing and she's stayed open to help us. She has, however, forgotten to lock the door and other people have come in. A couple looking for jewelry and some others. She'd called someone (boyfriend?) when we started to let them know she'd be late getting home. I figure the extra cash she'll get from the people after us will make up for the inconvenience. We apologise for keeping her open after hours and thank her. Jean tips her a $10. We take our leave.
The rest of the evening's basic. Quick stop at
7-11 for Listerine, take-out at Burrito King on Alvarado, and we veg in front of the TV. Jean is quiet and I call her on it; she's preoccupied with the piercing. She's glad she got it. Can't stop fucking with it, though, so she's distracted.
I angled her into watching The Shield. I think I got her interested, but probably not enough to watch on her own. More importantly, though, I lent her my copy of When Gravity Fails. I think she'll like it. In exchange, I'm saddled with John Saul's Black Lightning. Looks interesting enough and it's probably better than re-reading the stuff I currently have, which I was pretty much ready to do yesterday. We'll see.
As if the rest of them aren't?
...spent it catching up on some email and talking to the same ol' types on AIM, when Jean calls me up, telling me she wants to pierce her bottom lip again. She wants to replace her single stud with two hoops.
This, in my opinion, is a bad idea. I tell her so. She asks if I'll go with her to get it done. Of course I agree.
I don't make a very good case against it because it's not really my issue. It's her face and I'm not fucking her, so it doesn't really affect me at all. Still, I'm more than willing to point out that while her female friends are more or less for it (I suspect they like the idea of her doing something that'll make her less attractive and thus, less competition), her male friends are against it, except for her goofball punk boyfriend, who thinks it'll make her look more "harcore." He'll be gone soon, though. I tell her the single one she's got looks good; it works. Has a whole symmetry kind of thing going on with her face. Still, she wants this pair.
We hit a piercing place on Melrose called 13 BC. She talks it over with the guy behind the counter, then a little more with the lady behind the counter. The area is rather sparse. Some jewelry in a case, under the glass of the counter. Wood floors. Incense burning. One room to do the actual piercing in. The two people working there aren't overly pierced (at least facially), but they're knowledgeable. They tell her that if she wants her lip pierced with rings, she's gonna need ones that are larger than she'd prefer. She doesn't like this answer and mulls it over. We leave.
We turn around and hit...I think the place was called Freak Show, but I can't recall exactly. There's only one girl behind the counter. She, too, is not overly pierced. A very unobtrusive nose ring, a belly-button ring, and her ears is all she wears. She's kinda cute; red/blonde hair, if that's possible, and light eyes. The space is larger and more homey; they've got two rooms to work in, and magazines and books scattered about. Two chairs with footstools and a couch. Lots of jewelry under the glass on the counter. We've caught her at closing, but she doesn't seem to mind. Jean talks it over with her, shoots a bit more of the shit. I pick up a Details magazine. She decides she's going for it, throws down a $100 bill and fills out the paperwork. We got into the little room, where they talk and measure, and whatnot. The room, of course, looks like a doctor's office, except for the deli mustard colour of the walls. (People will tell you that if the piercing place you go to does not resemble a doctor's office, run the other fucking way.) A little of what I presume to be idiodine, gloves, a marker to make the sure the right points are pierced, some neosporin-type gel, latex gloves and it's rock and roll. I watch her.
"Breathe in, hold it. Breathe out, hard."
She punctures the lip with a long needle.
Bang.
No blood. No expression from Jean at all. The former surprises me slightly, not because I expected there to be any, but because I didn't really know why there wasn't. She explained afterwards, of course.
She corks the end of the needle that went through and sticks the hoop on the other end, pulling it through as she goes.
Repeat on the other side.
"Breathe in, hold it. Breathe out, hard."
Bang.
As stated, Jean's had this done before and the girl is, at the very least, an accomplished journeyman in the field.
Two rings done, clean as can be. As everyone was aware, the lips have begun to swell immediately. They're chatting all the while, of course. Jean had one of her nipples done once; says if you can take that, you can deal with anything. She got rid of it, though; too uncomfortable, wouldn't heal right (though it probably would have if she'd left it a little longer).
We arrived ten minutes before closing and she's stayed open to help us. She has, however, forgotten to lock the door and other people have come in. A couple looking for jewelry and some others. She'd called someone (boyfriend?) when we started to let them know she'd be late getting home. I figure the extra cash she'll get from the people after us will make up for the inconvenience. We apologise for keeping her open after hours and thank her. Jean tips her a $10. We take our leave.
The rest of the evening's basic. Quick stop at
7-11 for Listerine, take-out at Burrito King on Alvarado, and we veg in front of the TV. Jean is quiet and I call her on it; she's preoccupied with the piercing. She's glad she got it. Can't stop fucking with it, though, so she's distracted.
I angled her into watching The Shield. I think I got her interested, but probably not enough to watch on her own. More importantly, though, I lent her my copy of When Gravity Fails. I think she'll like it. In exchange, I'm saddled with John Saul's Black Lightning. Looks interesting enough and it's probably better than re-reading the stuff I currently have, which I was pretty much ready to do yesterday. We'll see.
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