{"id":6053,"date":"2010-10-09T23:31:21","date_gmt":"2010-10-10T07:31:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.godammit.com\/?p=6053"},"modified":"2010-10-09T23:31:21","modified_gmt":"2010-10-10T07:31:21","slug":"the-nose-ring","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/godammit.com\/the-nose-ring\/","title":{"rendered":"The Nose Ring"},"content":{"rendered":"

“The only antidote to mental suffering is physical pain.<\/strong>” <\/em>Karl Marx<\/span><\/p>\n

Many years ago, I got my nose pierced. I think I was going through a rough period, because I remember my husband barging into the tattoo parlor to finish an argument with me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Just recently, I decided to change the gold stud for a hoop. I think I was hoping for a jolt of pain, and I was not disappointed. But the cheap steel nose ring I bought wasn’t very pretty. I wanted a gold one, to match my earrings.<\/span><\/p>\n

After a few weeks, I found the gold nose ring that my brother gave me, back when he decided to stop wearing shit in his nose. I knew I’d have trouble changing the rings, so I went to a piercing place just down the street from my house. A nice young hipster changed the nose rings. He had the assured but delicate touch of a brain surgeon.<\/span><\/p>\n

Naturally, my brother’s nose ring was much too big and looked stupid. It bothered me all the time. I cry so often that I’m constantly blowing my nose. So I found a cheap gold ring that I hoped would be the right size.<\/span><\/p>\n

Today, craving more pain, I waked down the street to see the nice young piercer. I learned that he was out of town, but another piercer would help me. An older , battered looking guy with a million faded tattoos led me to the piercing station and told me to lay down on the table. <\/span><\/p>\n

His hands hovered above my nose, shaking badly. He attempted to get hold of my nose ring. I tried to conceal my fear as I asked, “Why are your hands shaking?” The hands started shaking wildly as he made another swipe at my nose.<\/span><\/p>\n

I said. “That’s it, stop!” He backed away as I sat up. I don’t know who was more embarrassed but I wasn’t going to let some fucker rip my nose. He looked at me with a resentful expression and announced: “Hypoglycemia.” <\/span><\/p>\n

I walked out as fast as I could. I walked a few blocks to another tattoo parlor. I explained <\/span>what had happened to a <\/span>dwarfish young guy with gigantic holes in his earlobes. He led me to a chair and replaced the big ring with the smaller one, warning that I would feel some “pressure.” The pain was a solid nine on a scale of one to ten. Hours later, my nose still hurts.<\/span><\/p>\n

Of course, the new ring is too small.
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