Piercing

So, my girlfriends Andi and Jenn and I celebrated Mardi Gras with a box of Franzia this year.  It was a wonderful evening of man hating, girl talk, and drunken sketch writing.  At some point among our drunk texting and other debauchery we decided we needed to celebrate how badass we are with a piercing.  Being women of our words, the next evening in complete sobriety we followed through with our plan.

 All three of us were getting our upper ears pierced as a sort of grown up badass friendship bracelet-like gesture.  The three of us had a wonderful evening… the girl who got pierced just before us did not…

While we were chilling on the waiting room couch we over heard that she was getting her hoohaw pierced.  All of us cringed as she went into the back because… well… who the HELL would ever do that!?

 We didn’t think to long about it because we were busy joking and laughing in the waiting room until all of a sudden: we heard it…

Moans of pain accompanied by shaky wails that seemed to say, “Why did I do this?”  I for one was on the wails side, why the hell would you do that!

 It was horrible enough to know what was going on, but listening to her I felt horrible and dirty and violated and awful.  I felt like I was listening to someone being raped.  It was grotesque.

 She eventually came out.  Waddling.  Trying to walk with her legs touching as little as possible… I hope that waddle makes you feel real sexy crazy face…

 When it was our turn it was hard to look at the guy piercing our ears without thinking “I know what you just did…”