Starting at a very young age I LOVED the pierced and tattooed look. As anybody who has been pierced knows there’s the dreaded “need to be 18” factor or the even more dreaded “attempt to get parental consent”.
When I was 15 after a lot of begging and pleading and deal-making I convinced my dad to sign for my nose piercing. My main reason for choosing my nose was the awareness that it was one of a select few piercings I actually had a shot at getting my pops to agree to.
I’ll never forget. .. He finally said yes on a Wednesday afternoon but told me I had to wait until Saturday. At the time it felt like the longest few days of my life. Finally Saturday morning came.
I’d love to tell you I picked the shop because of its stellar reputation or great reviews but in reality I went online and found which shop was open at 10AM and a reasonable distance from my house. Off to Rock A Billy we went…
I arrived just as they clicked the open sign on, giddy with excitement. I had my dad and best friend with me. (I got really lucky that it is actually a very reputable shop.) I walked in and the lime green walls filled with tattoo flash and the walled of section in the back with a sign that read “Get Poked “above the curtain, caused my excitement to sky rocket ❗