last night at the harp i stood up from the picnic bench, said, “i’ll be right back!” and on a whim went across the street to get my nose repiereced. i was going to go somewhere i’d heard good things about (as opposed to nothing at all, which is what i’ve heard about this place), but the last time i went to the one across the street from the harp, one of the piercers was talking about how he had lived in manchester and worked at the hacienda when it was owned by new order. hanh and shaun thought it would be pretty cool for me to have that guy stab me in the face, so i went back
alone for some reason, even though every other time i’ve had something pierced, i brought friends with me. this time, however, i dodged the richmond traffic, jumped up the stairs, and went in all by myself. i was wearing my velvet underground t-shirt, and one of the first things the piercer guy said to me was, “i really like your shirt.”
“thanks,” i said, taking my nosering out of my wallet and handing it to him.
“you know, in manchester i lived four apartments down from nico’s when she died.”
my head nearly exploded. “really?” i said.
“yeah,” he said. “there were press all over the place for days. this is going to take half an hour to sterilize, so why don’t you come back in a bit?”
“okay,” i said, and went back over to the harp to tell everybody that my face-stabber lived near nico’s place.
after a while, i stood up from the picnic bench again to go back across the street and get repierced. “good luck!” someone said as i walked off.
“thank you!” i said. “i’ll be okay as long as he doesn’t play ‘all tomorrow’s parties’.”
i’m so glad to have my nosering back. i missed it.