Friday, September 12, 2008
Hillary and Sarah and Linda and Molly and the rest of the women from Knit Nite were talking about the first time we got anything pierced and after I told my story, they said I should blog about it. So here goes: When all my friends in high school were 'doing it', in their bathroom with a potato and ice and a needle, or with those tortuous gradual spring hoop ones that dig in deeper and deeper over days of agony, or by making an appointment at the doctor's office, I was having allergy issues and it seemed pointless. But when I was something like 44 and visiting family on summer vacation, talk was all about how my niece wanted her ears pierced and her grandma, my mother, had agreed to pay for it for her as a gift. They had, in fact, made appointments with my mother's hair salon a couple times, but my niece had gotten cold feet and cancelled. I, without much thought, volunteered that if she did it, I would go along and get mine done. Pretty soon, appointments were made and there were promises to keep that had not been all that well thought out. When the fateful day arrived and we ended up at the salon at the appointed time, she wanted to go first so she would not chicken out. Well, the salon had a new 'gun' that rapidly 'instantaneously' makes the hole in the earlobe and inserts the earring and attaches the back. The 'gun' is supposed to then slide effortlessly off the ear. Well, it got stuck on my niece's ear! So I had to sit there while the salon employee broke into a cold sweat trying to loosen the device and as the manager was called for and as they tried various maneuvers to get it off. And after that was accomplished, I had to rise from my chair and bravely walk to the salon chair to face certain death by piercing gun. The longest walk of my life. Perhaps this is why I was willing to go on the 50 mile backpacking expedition in Red River Gorge in Kentucky or the 50 miles backpacking trip this past summer to Isle Royale. Because I survived the long walk from the waiting room chair to the piercing chair and never looked back or turned to run.