To have a pierced belly button is very elegant in my point of view. My colossal trepidation of needles stopped me from experiencing this elegance though. Consequently only thoughts of a piercing graced my mind for a handful of years. Only until spring break of 1999 in West Palm Beach, Florida, did I insist to have my fears and worries overthrown by delight.
It was half way through spring break when I at long last stepped foot into a tattoo parlor. I was afraid but excited at the same time to ultimately be getting my navel pierced. I looked at the vast amount of jewelry to choose from while waiting at the glass-cased counter to be helped. An attractive small metallic light-green tinted ring with a silver ball joining the ring together caught my eye and didn"ÃÂt let go. About five minutes later a minimal tattooed and vaguely pierced woman in her early twenties approached me.
As nervous as I was I contemplated lets just get this over and done with. I told her I wished to have my navel pierced today. Since most shops will not pierce minors, this shop being one of the many, I was asked to prove my age by showing a picture ID. So since I was nineteen years old I was uninhibited by law to be pierced. She acknowledging this took my driver license and proceeded to make a Xerox copy of it for their records. At the same time I was asked to autograph a consent and release form. The piercing at this particular shop was complimentary as long as you purchased their jewelry. So I handed the woman $25.00 for the stunning metallic green ring and proceeded with the "fun".
We next walked into a small well-lit meticulously clean room.