The place was a madhouse.
Daughter #2 — Karlyn — had made a promise to herself that when she turned 18, she would get a nose ring. She had to wait until she was 18 because her mother and I would not give her permission to get said nose ring until she was of legal age and could pay for it herself. She turned 18 on the 2nd of October, so, naturally, one of the first things she wanted to do was visit a local Dover tattoo shop, “Walls of Wonder,” which we did on Tuesday, November 26 (yes, it took us that long to come to some kind of compromise where I would actually take her to this place). The reason she wanted to wait for the last Tuesday of the month? Anything from the waist up was only $10.00! (Walls of Wonder calls it “Ten Dollar Tuesday”).
The place was a madhouse.
I had no idea so many people were interested in getting tattoos! But, I guess that when they’re offering it for a mere ten bucks, you rationalize your good budgeting with your decision to get something that’s — how shall I say it? — not actually a necessity. When Karlyn and I drove into the tiny parking lot, it was all I could do to navigate my little Malibu around all the other cars (we ended up parking behind the building). And when we went in — well, there’s only one way to describe it:
The place was a madhouse!
They had squeezed so many people into this little shop of horrors that it was all we could do to inhale without pushing the person standing in front of us off-balance. My first thought was, I’d better plan on having dinner delivered because it’s going to be hours before Karlyn gets waited on. However, I was soon relieved to discover that the proprietors already had a plan worked out in anticipation of their way-too-popular Tuesday specials: we could pay the $10.00 now and get a credit slip that they would honor on any other day of the week except Tuesday. Karlyn, in a momentary burst of good sense, decided that she would take that offer. So, she paid her sawbuck, grabbed her credit slip, and we left. Because, in case I didn’t mention it yet …
… the place was a madhouse.
Today (Wed., Dec. 4th) is when she decided to have her nose job — er — get her nose ring. I’m not sure why they call it a ring, since it’s nothing more than a straight pin with a gem on the end.
I had had some curiosity for a while about how those things got installed in one’s nose, so even though Karlyn kindly gave me permission to stay in the “lobby,” I said I wanted to see how all this happened. It really isn’t a long procedure at all. I guess the part that widened my eyes was the moment the piercing guy (we think his name is Chuck) actually rammed the long needle through Karlyn’s nostril from the outside, into what is, I guess, a kind of antiseptic sleeve as the needle exited from the bottom of her nose. (Thank the good Lord that it’s a straight pin — she insists that the alcohol made her eyes water — she wasn’t crying). Chuck, a husky, bearded, long-haired, and, of course, tattooed fellow, took the time to explain the care and maintenance of Karlyn’s new piercing to her.
So now she’s sporting a gem riding alongside her nose. It’s quite tiny, so certainly not ostentatious. Perhaps the best part of today’s visit was …
… it wasn’t a madhouse.
[P. S. — When Karlyn texted me to let me know she was finished with work and ready to head out to Walls of Wonder, she told me she called them to make sure they could take her. God bless her phone. Instead of “Walls of Wonder,” her autocorrect changed it to “Walls of Wounded.” In a way, morbidly appropriate.]