Not all of my genius ideas are harmless or beneficial to even myself. Sometimes, they don’t even require lying or dramatics. Every now and then, I have an idea that only requires one drastic action. I have a faint line, that’s pretty hard to cross, but leave it to me to push my own boundaries.
It was the summer of 2007, I was having drinks with my friends Lauren and Bryn at a bar called Ryan’s Pub in the East Village. Lauren lived in Brooklyn, at the time. Apparently, landlords out there, play by their own set of rules. Lauren came home one day to find her landlord in her bedroom, holding a pair of her dirty underwear. Lauren is the only person I know, who would let someone get away with this, in exchange for Xanax. He had offered her a pill now and then in the past, but now she could have a handful, whenever she wanted. She just had to call him up and remind him about the panty incident.
Lauren had about 12 pills, so while the three of us sat on the patio, finishing off a pitcher of margaritas, we popped Xanax like they were Tic Tacs. I have always had an extremely high tolerance for prescription drugs. I believe it’s because I really should be medicated…..
Anyways, when the pitcher was done, the three of us looked at each other wondering what we should do next. It was 8:30, on a Monday night and we were already shit faced. We took turns shooting out ideas, but nothing sounded too appealing. Finally, Bryn announced something we could get on board with. “Let’s get tattoos!”
We were around the corner from St. Marks Place, which is lined with tattoo parlors. At the time, it seemed like the perfectly logical thing to do.
“I’m in!” I said.
“Me too!” Lauren agreed.
“We should get BSL tattooed on our asses!” Bryn exclaimed.
Lauren and I both looked at Bryn like she was retarded. Bryn is the type of person who needs constant reassurance. She thought having our names in some way tattooed on each other would prove, we really liked her and wanted to be best friends forever.
“You’re an idiot.” I quickly replied. “I’m going to get a heart on the top of my ass.”
“Let’s all get hearts on the top of our ass!” Bryn exclaimed.
“I’m going to get a star on my hip.” Lauren announced.
“Fine. Sarah and I will get hearts on our ass.” Bryn said, hoping to change Lauren’s mind.
“You’re not getting the same tattoo I am.” I said to Bryn, as she looked at me like I had just killed her first born.
Before Bryn could say what we both knew she was thinking, Lauren beat her to it. “Don’t even think about getting the same tattoo I am.”
“You guys are so mean!” Bryn wined, pretending like she was about to cry.
In the year I knew Bryn, she had pretended to be on the edge of tears hundreds of times, but I had yet to see her shed a single one. Needless to say, Lauren and I completely ignored her dramatics.
“Why don’t you get LSB on your ass?” I said sarcastically, as Lauren and I laughed.
“Whatever, you’re a cunt. I’ll pick something out when we get there.” Bryn pouted.
We spent the next hour trying to figure out what 20% added to our check, divided by three equaled. Around 10pm, we slowly got up and stumbled over to the closest tattoo parlor. When we got inside both of the tattoo artists were busy.
Lauren and I sat on a beat-up, purple, velvet couch, while Bryn violently browsed through the thousands of samples. Less than 3 minutes later, Bryn walked up to us and said, “I can’t find anything good. They all suck.”
“We’ve been here for like two seconds. You couldn’t have looked through all of them.” I replied.
“There’s nothing I want. I’m not doing it, if there’s no significance behind it.” Bryn had no interest in doing anything, if it wasn’t her way.
“What are you talking about? We can always say remember the time we were fucked up on Xanax and got tattoos.” I said. Bryn thought for a moment, but realized I was full of shit.
A few minutes later, Lauren walked up to the counter and asked how much longer it would be. I could tell she was starting to have second thoughts. She came back and announced, “It’s going to be another half an hour. I think we should just do it another day.”
“Yeah, let’s do it another day!” Bryn said, happy to jump on any band wagon, that didn’t involve getting tattoos.
I knew if we didn’t do it now, we never would. The night was taking a downward spiral. Suddenly, I was struck with another one of my genius ideas. Unfortunately, due to the mass quantities of Xanax and alcohol I had consumed earlier, my genius was questionable.
“You’re both babies. If you’re not going to get tattoos, then I’m going to get my clit pierced.”
I already had my tongue, nipple, and belly button pierced at one time or another, and it seemed like the logical choice. I wasn’t going to let the night be a complete waste. Plus, I knew this would make for a great story. I remembered how much attention I got for getting my nipple pierced in High School. My mind was made up.
Bryn and Lauren both looked at me in shock. I was already eating this up and I hadn’t even had a needle stuck through my vagina yet.
“You’re not going to do it.” Lauren said.
“Oh, yeah? Watch me.” I got up and marched over to the counter. “Hi, we’ve decided not to get tattoos, but I would like to have my clit pierced instead.” I said to the heavily tattooed and pierced, blue haired man at the counter.
“Okay. I can take you right now.”
“Great! Do you have any jewelry with a pink gem?” I asked, scanning the jewelry displayed under the glass counter.
My nipple, was the only piercing I had kept, and I thought it would be cute if my nipple and my vagina had matching jewelry.
“The only thing I can pierce you with is this.” He said, holding up a plain, sterling silver banana bell, with a look I normally give Bryn.
“Okay. Let me just go to the bathroom and we can do this.” I said.
With a look of determination, I walked over to Lauren and Bryn and told them, “I’m just going to check my vagina out, before I put it on display.” They both looked back at me speechless.
I walked into the restroom and took a look at my vagina. In the excitement of things, I had forgotten it been a few days since my vagina had last seen the likes of a razor. I also couldn’t remember if I had showered that day. I quickly tried to spruce it up. Splashing it with some water from the sink and padding it down with a paper towel. I would have preferred to be a little more pussy ready, but decided, it could be worse. I could have an ugly vagina, and even if it was a little scruffy, it was still cute as a button. I came out of the bathroom and the blue haired man was already setting up.
The three of us walked inside the tiny room and suddenly my plans got derailed.
“You can’t have anyone else in here.” The blue haired man said, as he pulled two stirrups out from under the piecing table.
Lauren and Bryn stared at the stirrups in horror and looked back at me like I had completely lost my mind. I was devastated. Half of the shock value was them actually seeing it happen.
“Please, can at least one of them stay?” I pleaded, motioning to Lauren as Bryn looked at me with contemp.
“Sorry. It’s for sanitary purposes. It’s New York State Law.”
I didn’t think it made much sense. Lauren and Bryn looked a hundred times more sanitary than he did. His blue hair was all matted and it looked like he showered less than I did.
“Do you still want to do it?” The blue haired man asked.
“Sarah, maybe you shouldn’t.” Lauren interjected.
Bryn didn’t have anything to say. It was obvious she was still pissed about me choosing Lauren.
“I’m doing it. I’ll see you guys in a minute.” I said closing the door behind them.
“Just remove you pants and underwear and have a seat on the table.” The blue haired man instructed, like he was giving directions to the nearest subway station.
I waited for a moment, to see if he was going to give me some privacy, but he just sat there. I turned around and pulled off my pants and underwear. I don’t know why I was being modest, considering I was about to be spread eagle, with my vagina an inch away from his face.
I climbed up on the table and put my feet in the stirrups. He rolled his chair over, in between my legs, holding a blue marker, matching the color of his hair.
“I’m going to place it through the hood, right above the clitoris. That way you don’t risk losing any sensation.” He said, grabbing a hand mirror to show me the blue dot on my vagina.
“Looks good.” I really had no clue if it looked good, but I just wanted to get it over with. He grabbed a small clap and secured it on my hood.
“On the count of three, I want you to take a deep breath in and exhale out.”
I had enough experience with piercings to know, the second I exhaled, a big metal needle was going straight through my vagina.
“One, two, three…”
“Holy shit!!!” I screamed in bloody murder.
It felt like an angry Chihuahua bite off a piece of my vagina. I have an extremely high pain tolerance and rarely scream, but I had never experienced anything like this. It hurt so bad, I was afraid he had accidently tore my hood off, like a piece of loose leaf paper. Even four Xanax and a pitcher of margaritas, couldn’t muffle the excruciating pain I was in.
In just seconds, it was over, but my vagina was still throbbing. The blue haired man grabbed the hand mirror, so I could take a look. I fearfully sat up and in witnessing my vagina exclaimed, “Oh my God, it looks amazing!”
I was mesmerized by the sheer beauty of it. After gazing at my vagina for the next five minutes, the blue haired man forcefully prided the mirror from my hands. I carefully got dressed and made my way out of the torture chamber. Lauren and Bryn were waiting at the door.
“Are you ok? Everyone heard you scream. It sounded like it hurt.” Lauren said.
“You’re fucking nuts! I can’t believe you went through with it.” Bryn added.
In seeing their reaction, I completely forgot about the pain. I was loving this!
“You wanna see it?” I asked, like a pervert parked in front of an elementary school.
The three of us walked into the bathroom and I was already pulling my pants down before they could even close the door.
“Look!” I exclaimed, propping one foot up on the toilet seat.
The two of them just stared in amazement and shock. Like a space alien had used my vagina as a landing pad.
“You could have shaved.” Bryn remarked, disgusted.
“Well, I’m sorry Bryn. I didn’t exactly plan on getting my pussy pierced today.”
“It’s not that bad. I’ve let guys see mine much worse.” Lauren said reassuringly.
Lauren had slept with enough men to fill up Yankee stadium and based on a lot of her stories, I knew she was telling the truth.
“You wanna go get a drink?” I asked starting to feel the pain set back in.
They both agreed. I paid the blue haired man and we headed around the corner to Pour House.
I waddled down the block, like I had just participated in a gang bang. Once we got there, it took me 20 minutes to figure out how to sit on a bar stool, but after a couple drinks, I couldn’t feel my vagina anymore. As we sat there, Bryn and Lauren went on and on about how they couldn’t believe what had just occurred and I became more pleased with myself by the second.
In the weeks and months after, we told everyone we knew about the night I pierced my vagina. I eventually had to take it out because it got in the way of my masturbation. It sounded like a performance of Bring in the Noise, Bring in the Funk, every time my pocket rocket got within an inch of it. I have a firm belief that nothing, no matter how good it looks, or how much pain it caused to get, is worth keeping, if it gets in the way of masturbation.
