"1-2-3"

A little girl in a sparkly hat stood and watched me nervously as a girl in thick makeup and drawn-on eyebrows wielded a piercing gun. I sat straight and poised, but with nervous eyes locked on a friend who tried pathetically to make distracting conversation. I squeezed my purple wallet from Barney's and prayed that the pain wouldn't be what others had said it was. The girl drew dots and handed me a mirror to check them in, but in truth, I didn't even care where the earrings went in, I just wanted it done. She counted "1-2-3" and on the "3", I heard a click and felt pain. Instinctively, my head slightly jerked away  and I said "ouch!". It was only instinctively because I was ready for the second one, ready and almost excited to have it relatively painless. "1-2-3" the second stainless steel ball shot through my ear. Then it was done. I laughed nervously and looked down at the little girl saying "that didn't hurt at all". She got hers done shortly afterwards (the lobes not cartilage). I'm glad I did it, I sold two of my poorly chosen college text books for a rip off of $27 to scrounge for cartilage piercing money. (I paid...$200 some for them, but the clerk assured me $27 was all it was worth since new editions were coming out). I sold, (it's just money right?) and I marched into Clair's and after signing some wavers and showing ID, I was branded with bad-assery. Hazah!