Just a short time ago, I got my rook pierced and was infected with the wonderful, though hideously expensive for a university student such as myself, piercing bug. The next unsuspecting body part I set my sights on was my nostril. I had previously decided to limit myself to one piercing a quarter to keep expenses low, so the first weekend I was back at school from spring break, my friends, Kimra and Laura, and I hopped on the El to Belmont to visit Chicago Tattoo.
At A Glance Author VickieRose Contact VickieRose@bme.anon Artist Hank Bangcock Studio Chicago Tattoo Location Chicago, IL We went in to fill out our forms. Laura was going to get her orbital done, but since it was a Saturday afternoon, there was a two-hour wait. She had to be back before then, so it was down to just me as Kimra has nothing pierced... yet. As it was gorgeous out, we all went out to walk around and shop. After Laura left and Kimra bought a watch, we went back to wait in the shop, which is immaculately clean.
About fifteen minutes later, Hank came out. "Miss Victoria?" Kimra and I hopped up. We thought she would have to stand at the little window to see what was happening, but Hank told us there was a chair for moral supporters in back.
Now I have to tell you, Hank might be the most polite person in North America. He sat me on the table and explained everything he was going to do as well as all the aftercare. He also talked to us about Evanston, where we go to school, and told us some stories about when he was at Northwestern. Hank did a wonderful job of making me relaxed as well as educated about what I was doing. He also seemed genuinely excited to be piercing my nose, even though I'm sure he found it rather mundane.
Then it was time to be pierced. Hank put on gloves and what not. He marked the place on my nose and double-checked it against the jewelry to make sure it would be perfect. He told me at least three times how cute it was going to be. He When he clamped my nostril, I shut my eyes. He pushed the needle through; it did not really hurt. The cartilage piercing I had done with a gun (pause while I slap myself in the head for doing something SO STUPID) still holds that record. Hank put my jewelry in, and I was done.
He handed me a tissue because my eyes were supposed to be watering. I gave it back because they weren't. Hank laughed and said, "Well, aren't you bad-ass?" He then destroyed the needle in front of me and put it in a sharps container. "We do this to all the needles, which are given to a biological waste service, who then sell them to Sodexho-Marriott (Northwestern's food provider; we're one step above their program for prison food) for silverware!" He gave me my aftercare sheet. I paid him in cash, $60 plus a $10 tip because that's what I had and because Hank was awesome and deserved it. He counted the money and tried to give me my ten dollars back. When I wouldn't take it, we thanked each other and Kimra and I were on our way.
When I initially planned this piercing, I wanted to put in a nostril screw as soon as possible, but I fell in love with the ring as soon as Hank held the mirror up in front of me. Even Kimra, who had said she would "absolutely hate it until you can put a stud in," was converted. Then the trouble started.
Two weeks later, I went to the National Organization for Women's Emergency Action for Women's Lives in Washington DC. That basically translates to great big pro-choice rally and march designed to forewarn the Shrub that he better not mess with our right to choose. We rode on a bus all night from Chicago, marched and generally got our feminism on all day, and rode back to Chicago all night. I washed my face twice during this period and generally tried to keep my nose happy. However, within a week I had the infamous red bump and my nose was mighty pissed.
I decided to wait a week. It was still pissed, so I went to see Hank. He said the worst was probably over, to get a really mild bar soap to clean it with, and to come back if it wasn't better in a week. It got better, almost back to pre-march level, but then it got worse. I did this back and forth thing for a while because it was healed enough to rotate if it got bumped, but not healed. Eventually it got really bad, so I called up my mother, a nurse, and pleaded for antibiotics. It began to clear up right away, and now three months after being pierced, my nose is fine.
So, I totally recommend going to Hank or any of the other folks at Chicago Tattoo, as well as getting your nose pierced. Just wait until after the thirty-six hours of dirty, sweaty feminism.