When someone in the tattoo shop asks if the apprentice can pierce you, ask how many piercings he/she/it has done. Plastic skin doesn't count. Words cannot describe the pain I experienced today, as I left the fate of my ears in the hands of the apprentice. After I was seated in the room, a gloriously dim place, with some sort of psychobilly music playing, I was informed that the girl has never pierced anybody in her life. I was to be the first. My good friend Meg, who is the licensed piercer was there to walk her through, but it was interesting. The apprentice had no idea how to hold forceps, nor how bad forceps hurt high on the ear. They were cranked down as far as they could possibly go, squeezing my cartilage into their shape. There was then hesitation, as the apprentice didn't quite understand the intricacies of clamp, pierce, release. I had to have the clamp removed once, since it was slowly molding my cartilage. We finally received the needle, however the apprentice could not muster the intestinal fortitude to run the needle all the way through, so the master piercer had to step in. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am, a third hole in the left ear.
I feel bad for the apprentice, as she was nervous as hell, I volunteered myself before she knew what hit her. I commended her many times, as I know how scary it is to do a first piercing, on another human being. Gave her some tips, and I think I made her feel better.
Long story short, do not donate your body to apprentices learning to pierce, unless you have a high pain tolerance.
End rant.
