Deciding to get my eyebrow pierced was not one of the more difficult things I have ever done. I love the way they look, and always wanted one.... So.... I can't think of two better reasons to get it done! My best friend and I took metro into Dupont Circle (In Washington DC for those of you not familiar with the area) and walked a few blocks to the shop. She had decided to get her nipples pierced, 10 gauge captive bead rings if I remember correctly. I was a bit nervous, so you'll have to forgive my lapse in memory on that one.
At A Glance Author Andrew Contact amille07@shepherd.edu When A year ago Artist Dave Eastwood Studio Fatty's Location Dupont Circle (Washington, DC) Having decided on a curved barbell, instead of the ring I had planned on (my eyebrows are a bit on the thick side, and I was advised piercing through a hair follicle was asking for trouble) I paid, sat back, and waited, a bit on the nervous side, but I suppose that's to be expected. Truth to be told? I had never had a piercing done other than my earlobe, with a piercing gun, about a year earlier. Yeah. I know. I got it done at "Hot Topic" in Columbia Mall. I thought that would make me so hardcore. Amazing what a year or so in age will do to your maturity. The year before? Getting myself pierced was all about showing off, and proving that I was "cool." Right. Well, sitting down, waiting for Dave to tell me to go in the back, I realized rather than doing something to impress people, I was getting this done because I wanted to. No other reason. It would make me happy. Having concluded this, Dave popped his head around the corner and told me to come on back, and following obedi ently, I sat myself down, and took a quick look around the place. Much like the front counter, the room was meticulous. Everything was organized, clean, and not a spot of dust could be found. My mother, a nurse, would have been proud. Needless to say, she was rather opposed to me getting my eyebrow pierced, as she sees anything other than earring as "pointless mutilation." That aside, she still would have been happy to see how perfectly things were kept there.
My piercer, Dave Eastwood, is probably one of the most reassuring people I have ever met. He spelled things out for me, matter of factly, and didn't fail to mention I would probably be in quite a lot of pain. I despise it when people mince words, so his blunt manner was refreshing. Not to mention, his two side labrets were staring me right in the face, and making me realize "Hm, yup. That's next on my list."
Since the title of this experience is eyebrow piercings and steel doors, perhaps I should get to the point. Dave did an excellent job with my eyebrow. It was aligned perfectly, and I got compliments, and questions, as soon as I stepped on the Metro to head home. Even my anti-piercing mother had to admit she liked it. I followed the aftercare instructions to the letter, and it began healing, rather quickly, I thought. The salt-water rinses were great, not only doing a perfect job of cleaning the piercing, but bringing warm relief to the occasional soreness. For those people having ignored the suggestion to use de-iodized salt? I highly recommend just shelling out the few extra bucks. It's worth every penny. The relief is incredible.
Life continued on rather well. I was a full-time manager at the local Blockbuster, and despite the companies policies on facial piercings, my district manager was alright with mine, and decided not to write me up, or try and make me remove it. The only occasional problems were catching the barbell on a pillowcase in my sleep, or forgetting it was there for a moment, and slapping my forehead to signify my having been a moron. Yeah, well, after slapping a relatively fresh piercing? Having acted like a moron the previous moment was the LAST thing on my mind. Ow.
On to the steel door bit. My high school has steel exterior doors, and about two months after getting pierced, I was rushing into school, rather late. I didn't stop to see a person opening the door, as I reached to pull the door open myself, and caught the full force of the door, directly on the side of my face with my new piercing. "Ow," you might say. Well, after picking myself up off the ground, having been writhing in pain, and saw some blood coming off myself, the pain finally subsided. I ended up having to take the barbell out, at my doctor's request, so the torn skin could heal properly. I might add, my doctor was rather rude, and insinuated not too subtly that all people with piercings were morons, and deserved whatever injury occurred as a result of it. Well, hideous attitude aside, the spot healed, and I fully intend on getting my OTHER eyebrow pierced in the near future. And, I might add, I have every intention of going back to have Dave to have him pierce me aga in. Moral of the story? There isn't really one, but I miss my piercing, damnit.