A cautionary tale filed under “Be careful what you wish for.”
Before airport screenings became so rigorous, my brother flew out to California to perform a wedding. Yes, he’s a man of the cloth, though his “cloth” is usually jeans and a Polo shirt when he’s not wearing God’s Sunday designer labels.
On the plane, his gaze was drawn to a young woman, somewhere between eighteen and twenty-two. Every square inch of her face was pierced multiple times: lips, nose, eyebrows, cheeks, ears, forehead, scalp—the works. In my brother’s words, she looked as if she had a chain of mail draped over her head. “These days,” he recently told me, “she wouldn’t make it through the metal detectors.”
“What are you staring at?” the young woman asked my brother indignantly.
My brother got out of his seat, loomed above the metal prima donna, and replied, “You! If you don’t want to be looked at constantly, don’t aim a nail gun at your face!”
The young woman was moved to the rear of the plane, where she was promptly stared at by other passengers. My brother is both liberal and tolerant, but he also insists on common sense.
I have nothing against body art or piercing, which can be very flattering. I'm not into Miami Ink (or its Hollywood counterpart), but the people are quite attractive (even gorgeous!) even though it's not my cup of tea. I prefer more subtlety in tattoos and such, but hey--live and let live, right? Beyond a certain point, however, one needs to be aware that he or she is going to be looked at depending on the amount of "coverage." Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in the presence of art? I don't write novels in order to put them in a safe deposit box. I publish them.
Picture: public domain
Before airport screenings became so rigorous, my brother flew out to California to perform a wedding. Yes, he’s a man of the cloth, though his “cloth” is usually jeans and a Polo shirt when he’s not wearing God’s Sunday designer labels.
On the plane, his gaze was drawn to a young woman, somewhere between eighteen and twenty-two. Every square inch of her face was pierced multiple times: lips, nose, eyebrows, cheeks, ears, forehead, scalp—the works. In my brother’s words, she looked as if she had a chain of mail draped over her head. “These days,” he recently told me, “she wouldn’t make it through the metal detectors.”
“What are you staring at?” the young woman asked my brother indignantly.
My brother got out of his seat, loomed above the metal prima donna, and replied, “You! If you don’t want to be looked at constantly, don’t aim a nail gun at your face!”
The young woman was moved to the rear of the plane, where she was promptly stared at by other passengers. My brother is both liberal and tolerant, but he also insists on common sense.
I have nothing against body art or piercing, which can be very flattering. I'm not into Miami Ink (or its Hollywood counterpart), but the people are quite attractive (even gorgeous!) even though it's not my cup of tea. I prefer more subtlety in tattoos and such, but hey--live and let live, right? Beyond a certain point, however, one needs to be aware that he or she is going to be looked at depending on the amount of "coverage." Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in the presence of art? I don't write novels in order to put them in a safe deposit box. I publish them.
Picture: public domain
7 comments:
I'm a non-fan of tattoos in any shape of form. I think they look cheap and faded almost immediately after they ate inked.
Body piercings? I see enough metal stuck in places it has no business being in my line of work.
Earrings, a nose ring (if you must!) is my limit.
Piercings make me feel queasy. I just can't look at them (apart from ears and nose). I would have hated to have to sit next to her on the plane. I wouldn't have been able to eat!
Very strange to decorate yourself to say 'look at me' and then whinge 'don't look at me'. (A few 'celebrities' spring to mind too)
Scott, I have heard more than a few stories from people in medicine about how the metal gets becomes intertwined when two people engage in amorous activity. That's enough of a drawback for me. I don't need to provide entertainment for the ER.
Lane, I get sympathetic pains too easily. Just sitting in close proximity to someone who has so many holes in her flesh would give me a headache. And yes, queasy, too :)
Excellent story. I was once a little teen punk rebel, and I am only thankful that such piercings weren't popular then.
I do remember my fellow ilk, angry at being stared at so often, but continuing to dye their hair purple anyway.
There are people who do anything that attracts attention, but can not deal with it when it comes.
I dislike piercing and tattoo. They are nasty and unhealthy.
The health issue is definitely germane, szelsofa. Good point.
I'm sort of a health-freak, you know, mwahhahhah.
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