A good friend of mine was getting ready to go off to college in Kansas, which I call Corn Country. As a pseudo-gift, I had promised to take her for her first tattoo. Her parents would not have been pleased to know what she was doing, so she called them and told them she would be taking me to get yet another piercing. I was well known for my piercing habit.
At A Glance Author Shalon Contact Shalon@bme.anon When A year ago Artist Jason Studio Skyline Tattoo and Piercings Location Arlington VA We left from shopping for a gift for her sister, got in my car, and drove half and hour to the shop. Months earlier I had gotten my first tattoo here, and was pleased with the results. Enough so that I would take my friend there at any rate. She was very nervous when we walked in. We were greeted quickly, and told Jason, the artist that had done my tattoo and would do hers, that she wanted a tattoo but hadn't decided what to get. He nodded and went back to talking with other customers while she and I walked around, looking at designs.
Now, I had already decided that I couldn't possibly pass up this opportunity to modify myself, but I didn't mention this until she had decided on her tattoo. She paid for her tattoo, and then mentioned that I would like something done also. Jason looked at me. I asked Jason if he could pierce my hood. I had decided on the hood because it was easy to hide, I had pierced both inner labia, and I thought a hood piercing would compliment the area. I made a joke later about putting tiny chains between everything. Jason said he could easily pierce my hood, and went behind the desk to bring me a form. I filled it out like an old pro, handed over my ID and the money, and sat next to my friend grinning like an idiot.
Jason asked me which direction I wanted my piercing; vertical or horizontal. I told him to pick himself. He muttered to himself, easing my tensions, and told me he wanted to pierce me vertically. Since my friend had finished her paperwork first, he would tattoo her first. I was very scared that Jason wouldn't pierce me. Not only was he gorgeous, but I knew him. As it turned out, I was fine.
It was necessary to wait while the two private rooms opened up. Finally, Jason called my friend and I back into a curtained room with a chair like the chairs at a beauty shop and a bench. An older woman was lying on the bench, and another tattoo artist was finishing a small rainbow on her hip. My friend paled listening to the whirr of the machine he was using.
My friend took off her shirt, and Jason asked me where he should put the tattoo. Together we decided on the location, and then I held her hand while Jason went to work. She had picked a small Japanese design on her right shoulder, so it didn't take too long. She said she would never get another tattoo because it hurt, and I laughed.
Because the studio we were in only had a curtain, we had to wait to pierce my hood. I was patient. I was nervous. Jason was beautiful, sure, but I didn't really know him from Adam and I was about to lay down and open up in front of him like he was my OB/GYN. I had worn a skirt that day, which turned out to be rather lucky.
The old woman's tattoo was finished, so the artist that had worked on her sat taking a break. We started talking. He grinned when I admitted I was having my hood pierced. He warned me that I shouldn't drive home afterwards, and told me that he'd seen women pass out after having their hoods pierced. I grinned at him. He was a big guy, and I hadn't had my hood pierced, but I knew my body and I tolerate pain well.
Jason was getting antsy to do the piercing, but the only room with a closing door was still busy. The other artist offered to stand outside the curtain with a gun so that no one could come in while Jason was working. I laughed, but said that I wouldn't mind. I pretend to have no modesty around piercing people. And I thought it would make a good story. Jason and the other artist talked for a bit, and they agreed to do the piercing then and there. Just as I sat in the chair, the door to the room opened. They were finished.
We gave up and went into the room. The artist with the gun came in while I sat down, and told me to lean back and look up. I didn't want to seem stupid, so I hesitated, but finally I gave in and leaned back, carefully looking up under the wooden shelf above my head. In tiny print read "Eat Me." I laughed, but wasn't stupid enough to repeat aloud what I saw as Jason pulled out the stirrups. The other artist told me good luck and left.
I had shed my underwear as we entered the room, so all I had to do was put my feet into those stirrups. My friend came up next to my head and held my hand. She faced the wall. Taking a breath, I put my feet up and opened my legs. This was the same room I'd been tattooed in. I was being pierced by the same guy that tattooed me. I looked around while he swabbed the area. A picture of him and his girlfriend was to my right. I asked him what she thought of his piercing women. He replied, then told me he was putting on the clamps.
The clamps were cold; he clicked them closed. I won't lie. It hurt. I started breathing more deeply. I squeezed my friend's hand to let her know I was okay. Jason told me to breathe deeply, and exhale when he told me. He told me to breathe out, and as I did he pushed the needle through my hood.
The clamps hurt more than the needle or putting in the captive bead ring. The clamps were horrible, but the only pain from the needle was already fading under the constant pain of the clamps. I was panting by the time he released the clamps. Immediately I felt better. Blood rushed to the area. I could feel it. It was sore, but not in too much pain. He swabbed the area clean, and started telling me how to clean it myself. I asked my friend if I had squeezed her hand. She told me that I hadn't. I was proud of myself.
After I could sit up, very carefully, Jason gave me a copy of the instructions he'd just told me. He wrote the store number and his name on the top, and told me to call if there was any problem. I decided that I didn't want to chance the underwear, so I wadded them up and stuffed them into my purse.
Before I left the room, I handed him a tip. I walked carefully. It didn't hurt, but I wasn't wearing any underwear and I had just had a needle pushed through my skin in a sensitive area. I waved to the gun-happy artist as I walked by, and he told me he'd never seen anyone walk so calmly after having her hood pierced. I grinned.
I drove myself and my friend home that day. Once I got home, I climbed on the sink and cleaned the piercing. The first few days any contact hurt, but it healed quickly. I have had my hood pierced for almost 3 years now and I've never had any problems with it. In fact, cleaning it was a lot of fun. While it was healing, I had an almost perpetual grin on my face. Even walking was fun. It's a lot less sensitive now, but I can just remember myself during the healing and smile.