Weeks and weeks walking around the house staring at my empty ceiling looking inside my empty soul. A complete lack of existence covered my unholy body. Something was missing whenever I looked at myself inside and out. As I stood blankly at my computer screen, I suddenly had a surge of something real flow through my body. Never before was I remotely interested in this sudden urge of mine. It was an urge to have a piece of metal twisting through the middle of my lip. I knew for sure that my parental guardian known as mother wouldn't EVEN let me get this piercing. Every time, the response is always "Why?". After you briefly explain of the certain overwhelming "power" you will instantly hold, the reply is so bluntly put. "No". After laying on my bed in wonder of what maniacal scheme I could do to somehow convince my mom of letting me get this circular scrap of steel through the center of my impatient lip. Threatening thoughts came to mind, followed by evil plots of blackmail. Then, I stood deep in thought under my "mango tree" until I pretty much just gave up. This sense of enlightenment hadn't reached me and I figured it never will.
At A Glance Author Federal_73 Contact Federal_73@bme.anon Artist Doug Studio Aggieland Tattoo Location College Station, TX My plan and only means of succeeding was to plaster my mom with reasons that I should get this hole in my lip. From then on, every answer to her questions would have the words 'lip ring' in them. She would laugh and reply with no sarcasm involved, "no". One simply beautiful day, something must have happened to my mom that simply never happens. Something came over that made her want to fulfill every sons dream. I asked once again that day if I could get a lip ring. With an expected "no", I laughed after my query dreaming of the day she would say yes. "Maybe" was the response that nearly made me take a piss in my pants right there. She actually said she would think about it. I was in awe at that moment and couln't wait another moment in that chair to call Vince and tell him , who earlier that year, pierced his lip. Wouldn't you know it, the next day my own mother agreed to let me pierce the middle of my now anxious lip.
That same day, I called Aggieland Tattoo and asked them how much the piercing would cost. The lady who answered the phone gave a reply of $40. I gave an enthusiastic "OK" and bolted out the door with mom and baby sister in hand. After picking up Vincent from his house and driving to the bank to get a quick $40, We were all headed for the parlor. As we walked closer to the clear windows of the tattoo parlor, an overwhelming sense of weakness took over my body. I was fearing the needle before I even stepped foot in the door. With deep breaths and the thought of that stainless steel hoop hanging in my lip, I entered the pearly gates. The sight of the place made me a bit nervous because of the sign on the see through door staring at me reading "The Piercing Room". I was shaking at this point and wouldn't stop until the day that I arrived home to be in shock as I looked into the mirror. I vaguely remember the actual piercing because of my lack of memory. I remember the piercer, Doug, who I give much props to for doing such a good job in centering the piercing. He gently took the chrome ring out of the small baggy and gathered his materials.
I remember not knowing what is about to happen to me and thinking that It would take at least 10 minutes. But what remember most of all is the hollow needle poking through me as I took my last painful breath and could feel the coldness of the curved metal as it protruted through my flesh. Watered eyes looked into a hand held mirror nodding at the site of what I had accomplished. I felt relief at the feat I had overcome and a huge smile appeared on my reddened face. Running the mouthwash through my teeth gave my a sensation undescribable with my words. I examined the studio after the piercing and stared at the bongs sitting across against the wall. I looked at all of the jewelery in the case and instantly I had the urge to buy the raddest looking ring. However when I reached into my pocket to grab my wallet, I opened it only to come across an empty chunk of leather. Grinning at the sight of it and once again remembering the ring that proudly sits in the middle of my smiling lip, we left. Since then, I've had to deal with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and strangers on the streets. I knew I would have to deal with it sometime or another, but I felt especially awkward when my grandmother saw it. She misplaced the black ring with a scab and offered some Peroxide to heal it. I laughed and turned my head saying simply "it's pierced". That's about all I have to say.