Do you know that I got FORTY comments on my Special Needs post? That’s like twenty more than I usually receive. Who knew that I would be such a hit being all serious and stuff…
So I thought that it was only right to follow up such a triumph (which it is for those of us with only about 20 regular readers), with something just as thought provoking. Something that really speaks to the reader. Something close to everyone’s heart: tattoos and piercings.
I’ve mentioned in the past that I’m a little bit of a prude. Not a self righteous prude of course – but more of a “hoping no one will notice when I cringe every time they reference their unusual sexual preferences” kind of prude. And because I’m so hopelessly prissy, I tend to be a magnet for innuendo and embarrassing conversations with semi strangers.
Maybe it’s a primal kind of thing. Like predators sensing fear, these uninhibited types sense my prudishness and go right for the jugular. Not through malice of course – but like magnets, they are inevitably attracted to my utterly opposite nature.
Probably the best example of this was an experience I had at a wedding almost five years ago. The wedding was that of my husband’s friend from work. A very funny and intelligent guy who took great pride in his blue collar roots. He rode motorcycles and abhorred ties. His bride was a lovely girl who called herself “frou frou” and her own background “country.” She was a doll and we liked them both immensely.
And along with this colorful combination of lovebirds, came a just as colorful group of friends and family to fill the seats at the party. The party itself was planned to exclude all of the formality so common to many weddings. This was the bride’s second marriage and she claimed that as long as she got to wear a pretty white dress, her only concern was that everyone relax and just be themselves. And be themselves, they did. At least in my corner of the room.
There were uncounted tattoos peeking out of shirt collars and sleeves, jackets and ties were quickly tossed onto chairs, and Uncle Joe’s long black hair fell out of its braid and into flowing waves down his shoulders as the night progressed. As the music played and drinks were poured, the various gatherings of friends began to scatter and mingle.
Work friends with preppy haircuts talked microbrews with pony tailed biker types. And most of the women crowded onto the dance floor to join the bride as she boogied to the ubiquitous reception music play list. I’m sorry – but no matter how much of a music snob a girl claims to be (which I don’t), they all flock together when the DJ plays I Will Survive. Especially when there’s an open bar.
The event truly peaked when the 90s boy band song faded into something a little more techno though. Or at least it sounded techno at first. As the dancing women slowed their steps and glanced at each other with confusion, we all realized that the new music seemed to be the theme from 2001 A Space Odyssey. Now the DJ did look a little weird, and the suppressed laughter so obvious in his expression made this even more likely. But suddenly the tempo changed and Elvis’ Burnin’ Love blasted through the room. And then two Elvis impersonators burst through the doors, gold capes flashing as they charged onto the dance floor.
They gyrated their way through a full set of Elvis’ best loved Vegas performance numbers and ended the show to thunderous applause. There may have even been an encore. I’m not entirely sure since I think I may have passed out from laughing so hard. They weren’t the best Elvis impersonators – one was a little too tall and skinny, one was a little too short and plump – but they made up for this with enthusiasm. Oh yeah – and the best part? They were the mother and father of the the bride.
I apologize for derailing a bit and losing track of my original topic, tattoos and piercings. But I find it impossible not to talk about that night without referencing the Elvis impersonators. It was quite possibly my favorite wedding moment. Ever. As much as I’m very traditional in my own life, I thoroughly enjoy the pageantry of someone else’s wedding Elvis impersonators..
But back to the point of this scene that I’ve painted… There were a lot of characters at this event and it was fated for me to find myself in unlikely conversations with several of them.
Chris already knew many of the guests from a barbecue that he attended in the recent past, and made sure to introduce me to all of them. Chris is what many people like to refer to as, “The Mayor.” He just has to meet and greet, and is genuinely interested in everyone. So of course he’s a big hit wherever he goes. He is not a prude.
One woman we talked to for a long time had a giant scar on her chest in the shape of a snowflake. I had never seen anything like this before, and she explained that it was a kind of body art much like a tattoo. Without the ink, it appeared to be white. So really, the snowflake theme was a good choice – I mean as far as scarification goes.
Then I found myself in another long conversation with a couple. Initially, they appeared fairly conservative, him in his suit and her in her old school Laura Ashley floral. But then they started talking about their many tattoos and piercings. And I’m not kidding when I say “many.” Just like the typical tattooless person usually does, I inquired about the pain that is involved and exclaimed over how much one would have to endure for “a sleeve.” Apparently, they were willing to suffer for their body art.
It wasn’t lost on me that they were just as amused by me as I was by them. Putting myself in their shoes, I imagine that it must have been very much like talking to a sweet little old lady: “And now how many tattoos do you have dear? Gracious! You’re practically covered in flowers. It’s like a little garden on your back – how lovely.”
So we enjoyed each other’s differences as we enjoyed our fifth drink, and then the subject turned to piercings. As her husband left us to retrieve round number six, the flower covered lady leaned in conspiratorially. “Once I got bored with ink, I started experimenting with piercing,” she said. I shuddered internally as, of course, I remarked upon the pain involved in that. She claimed that it was completely worth it. Especially the one she got “down there.” She laughed, “I mean, I love my husband, but now I really love my husband…”
As I felt my entire head light up in flames, the much loved husband returned with the much needed drinks. Once he was caught up on our current topic of discussion, he admitted that he did not have much interest in piercings for himself, but was very happy with his wife’s experiments. I scrounged for something that I could contribute to this, but only came up with, “well that’s very interesting. And what is that kind of piercing called again?” [I vaguely knew it had something to do with royalty.] In unison, they responded “clitoral.”
“OH!” I sputtered, “it’s called what it is. For some reason I thought it was called something else.”
“You’re thinking of the male version – the Prince Albert,” he said.
And then I fainted dead away from mortification and had to be revived with smelling salts.
Just kidding. It was at that point that Chris walked up and asked what we were all talking about.
“Oh – we’re just corrupting your wife,” she said. And then we all laughed and then I went to get another drink.
So what was my point again? Oh yeah – I’m a prude and people like to talk to me about clitoral piercings and I might have to become an alcoholic to survive this. But I do enjoy the odd Elvis impersonator.
I have the advantage (if it is?) of being pretty much unshockable. But for some reason no-one has ever chosen to tell me about their piercings…
HAHAHAHA. The image of you just keeling over in your chair at the piercing discussion cracks me up. Husband Mike is out getting a new tattoo as we speak (he copies EVERYTHING I do – got my new one last week), so this is an especially amusing post.
You sound a lot like those people who are violently allergic to cats … and inevitably are the ONLY PEOPLE IN THE ROOM that the resident cats want to nuzzle.
Oh man! Just imagine all the crazy people that are gonna be stopping by your blog thanks to the one little word “clitoral” in your post.
Great story, as always! :)
Oh my god that was so funny Kate! I can just picture the whole scene. And who wouldn’t love to be at a wedding with Elvis impersonators? I’m glad you got so many comments on your last post, and I predict you’ll be getting tons in the future too!
Each to his own I guess. I personally don’t care for it but many do. One of my daughters has a “few” tatoos. Most you cannot see in her daily life. She had her nipples pierced which I thought was crazy. She got an infection and then removed them. Ouch. Just not my thing. She constantly talks about getting more tatoos. I, being who I am, cannot help but tell her she is crazy and what will they look like when she gets older, more inflated or saggy, etc. She said well all her friends will be going through the same thing. Ugg.
Coco
That has to be one of the most interesting wedding stories I’ve heard in a verrry long time. Amazing and awesome. I too, have been on the receiving end of piercing info on someone that I REALLY did not want to know that well. YIKES! lol
ok, the elvis impersonators sound very awesome!!
I’ve never considered myself a prude (that’s my Mom after all) but i think my head would’ve burst into flames at that point in the conversation. =]
Clitoral piercing? I think I would have cringed too.
I know this sounds crazy, but my MOTHER is really into tattoos. She has tons of them – on her arms, legs, and chest. I think they are horribly tacky. But to each his own…
So, i have my eyeliner tattooed on but I don’t think I am “that” daring!
*for those who had read my previous comment I didn’t mean to come across as preachy!*
I’m really thinking my husband and I may have to steal that Elvis idea when our kids get married. Sounds like something they could appreciate.
And I would have been fainting with you over that conversation. I’m embarrassed just reading it!
Too funny! We’ll drink that prudishness right out of you at BlogHer. I love weddings for exactly the reasons you describe.
That sounds like a fabulous wedding!
I wanted to get a Tattoo in Vegas. I was all ready to do it and then I decided to get a hot dog instead. Which turned out to be the risker activity because poor husband was up all night with heartburn.
Sounds like a fun wedding and interesting conversation.
How’s this for shocking: On spring break in Law School my friend got her belly button pierced. Another girl and I went along for support and looked at books of really weird piercings (and places for piercings). As we were discussing it, the piercer guy admited he had 9 in his pants. I literally spit the soda I was drinking on the floor.
Oh my goodness. I’m with you on this, Kate. I would have been pretty shocked, too.
xo
20 readers? Be happy that you have even that many—I’m lucky to get 10…
But I think that you have raised the bar in the blogging world about what we all think about, but are afraid to talk about….hmmmm.
Oh, wow. I think if we ever got a beer together, it would take me approximately 4.3 seconds to make your head explode from embarrassment.
…Let’s do it!
Tats and piercings generally don’t phase me, but in, um, SOME PLACES…eek. The thought makes me wince.
WHY? Ok, I know why, but ugh. Why?
I am not a fan of tattoos or piercings. I did meet someone who had a Prince Albert and told me all about the benefits. For me though it just made me shudder.
I love the fact that the parents of the bride were Elvis impersonators that is fab.
Mother and father of the bride as Elvis impersonators is a hoot; and living in Key West “Body Art” has begun to seem mundane (sometimes even wierdly beautiful, like the gorgeous huge butterfly wings completely covering the back of a girl I saw in the supermarket); but as for the piercings, the only words I can come up with are Yuck! and Oooooooowwwww! Mom
Sounds like a great wedding. How funny the parents were the Elvis impersonators!! Sorry I missed your Special Needs post my kids had the stomach bug and I was out of the blogosphere cleaning sheets, carpets, clothes…
I have a tattoo that I got long ago when I was 17 just to torment my parents. Ha, I showed them, didn’t I?
Much love from NJ,
Sue
xoxo
I’m sorry but that is funny. Talk about opposites attract. Me, personally, too much of a weiner to get any tattoos or piercings. I would have laughed so hard watching the color drain from your face. Sorry, I love you but it’s hilarious
I’m probably not as prudish, but I get this. I am that person that people tell all sorts of things to. I swear it’s because people quite frequently mistake me for someone else. It happens all the time. So, this makes me think that I must have that kind of face that you just tell things to.
I really, really enjoyed this post. I can just picture your face…your mortified face…:)
I should quickly follow up that I’m not so prudish comment with I have zero tattoos and no strange piercings. I couldn’t do any of it! I just meant that not much shocks me.
Yikees! I’m going to a wedding soon, and I wonder what might transpire…
BTW, people are always telling me weird things – We must have very open faces – One Christmas at a work’s do, the guy I was sitting next to started to tell me about his recent threesomes and his keenness to move on to doing adult movies! I did not know where to put myself!