Hi, I'm Torrey. Welcome to Left Field, where creativity runs amok and imagination is ALWAYS more important than knowledge. Shoes are not allowed but ties are optional. This is a repository of snippets from my life out here in Left Field. One never knows what shiny bits of creativity will be found here... cards, scrapbook layouts, photography, poetry, recipes, ponderings, rantings and musings. It could be anything! Life in Left Field is always changing, always real, always ...interesting.

October 21, 2015

Ritualistic Mutilation

I was cleaning off a thumb drive today, and ran across this piece I wrote a couple of years ago. I completely forgot about this mis-adventure, but it made me laugh...until I remembered how painful it was...and now I'm grabbing my ear in remembered pain.

I thought I'd share it.

Ritualistic Mutilation
So, yesterday (or was it the day before), I went Holiday shopping with my BFF, Jodi. She and I are like frick and frack--two peas in the proverbial pod. She’s one of my soulmates.

Ok, anyway, there we were at the local mall. We were on a mission. There was only one store we really aimed at hitting. So we walked past the multitude of booths that clogged the central corridor this time of year. I say we walked...it was really more like two rats negotiating a maze--a maze filled with traps. We made no eye contact with the vendors. We didn't want to see their wares. We didn't want to feign mock appreciation for their doo-dads as we oooh'd and aaah'd over their shiny baubles and trinkets. 

We were on a mission.

All of the sudden, a dark and mysterious woman with a thick eastern European accent jumped right in front of me-- blocking my egress from her domain.


"Do you have natural nails?", she blurted out in a voice reminiscent of a character from an old Dracula movie. I reached up, unconsciously, and placed my hand to cover my exposed throat. "Yes, I do...bu-but I don't have nails to speak of…" I sputtered out as I dangled my other hand out to her for inspection. "See?" I said with a verbal shrug. Then she suddenly grabbed my hand in hers and started dragging me to her booth. 

Where was Jodi?

Jodi kept on walking.

Dang her hide.

There I was, being led to a booth of potions and what-nots by a creepy gypsy woman who had her vampiric vice of a death grip on my hand. She asked me if I was married. But before I could say anything, she cackled out..."You, dahlink, need MANY husbands...many, MANY husbands for you!!!!"

Oh joy, I was getting love advice from a gypsy vampire. I asked her if she meant I needed many husbands all at once...or one at a time. She smiled a toothy smirk and said "All now, all at once."

Well, personally, I think that would kill me off...in a very short amount of time. Then, she grabbed my hand and started rubbing some polishing stick on one of my nails as she continued to talk to me about how much passion she saw in me. 30 seconds later...I had one REALLY shiny nail...to offset my 9 other really dull ones. Then came the pitch..."This shine will not come off for one month!" she exclaimed. Whoopee, I thought.

From 3 booths away I heard Jodi calling to me, "Tor, we're going to be late!" That was my cue and my out. I apologized to Madame Zelda for my impending hasty departure as I pried my hand from hers. I thanked her for her "assessment" of me (or whatever it was) and ran like a bat out of hades to Jodi...who was standing there giggling.

We plowed through until we reached our destination. We made our purchases, then started back through the maze of vendors to get back to the car. On our way back, we passed by a piercing salon. I stopped in front of their display case. I grabbed Jodi's hand and said, "Come on babe...we're gonna do it...NOW." Jodi got a o.0 expression on her face. I didn't really give her a choice. I walked over to one of the clerks (who was displaying all sorts of piercings on her face) and asked her if they did piercings other than earlobes.


She cheerfully chimed, "Why yes, we do!" (remember...this is in the middle of a suburban shopping mall...it was not a seedy tattoo/piercing parlor downtown). We picked out the jewelry together (a pair that we ended up splitting)...and we signed the consent (which read like we were gonna get open-heart surgery).

Jodi made me go first. Ok, that's fair. It was my idea.
We were ushered into their inner sanctum behind the display counter...in full-view of all the passersby. Ok, ok get your mind out of the gutter. I know you're thinking we were getting something a little more...intimate pierced. NOT EVEN--and especially not sitting in the middle of a shopping mall like a fish in a fishbowl. We got the cartilage on the very top of our ear pierced--the helix. Sheesh.

So, I climbed up in their high little chair...which elevated me above the level of the counter (I'm certain it was done so on purpose so everyone could see). The clerk gave me a teddy bear to hold on to. She asked me if I had ever broken a bone before...I guess my eyes got big as saucers because she interjected, "NO, no, no!!! I mean it kinda sounds the same". Great. In a few seconds I was gonna hear snapping and crunching. .

She loaded the gun with my pre-selected earring and quick as you can say "Bob's your uncle who likes to wear pantyhose"...it was over. Not too bad. I've felt worse...like when I fell down the flight of stairs and broke 3 ribs, my wrist, and my right foot.

Jodi thought I was smiling. In all actuality, I was grimacing...through tightly gritted teeth...with curled toes. But it's ok that she thought I was smiling...'cuz it was HER turn in the torture chair.

I thrusted the now-squished teddy bear into her arms as we traded places. She held my hand through it...no, that's not right. She was not just holding my hand...she was squeezing it for dear life. White knuckles, digging into my palm. My hand now has a lovely "C" curve to it. 30 seconds later, we exited the piercing booth, each sporting a tiny new earring in the uppermost cartilage of our ear.

Things returned to their pre-pierced state as far as how it felt...until we got like 15 yards down the mall. Then, without warning, someone took a blowtorch to my ear followed by a vice grip and a wooden stake that had been driven through.

Ouch doesn’t touch it.

Here I am, a few days later...and it still hurts like a sonuvabeyoch. Jodi relayed to me that a coworker of hers (who had several cartilage piercings of her own) said that since we had our piercing done with a gun (as opposed to a needle) that we would be experiencing this level of "discomfort" for about a month or more due to the cartilage pretty much shattering with the force of the gun.


I think it just would have been more efficient had I purchased a scorpion at the pet shop 2 doors down and attached it to my ear.


  1. OwwwwWWWWWwwwwwWWWWWwwwwwwWWWW!!!!!!!! Shoulda stuck with the nail buffing. I gotta ask, do you still wear an earring in that piercing? I'm assuming that's a self-portrait above. It looks does look cool, that's for sure.

    1. HECK no...I removed the stud after a solid 3 months of pain...I don't know if the hole is still there or not...and I'm not gonna test it to find out.

  2. Hahaha... reliving one of our wonderful adventures (or in this case "misadventure). Mine didn't last either. It never did heal until I took the darn thing out. Now I can't even remember where it was or which ear it was in. Next time (hehe, you know there will be a next time) we are going to that seedy, in the basement, tattoo parlor where they do it with a needle and it actually heals.


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