The Real Jersey Shore

Lip Piercing

A few years earlier, when I was 19, I stared outside of my boyfriend's apartment window in the living room watching two little birds fly from tree to tree as I thought about what I wanted to do.  The sun's rays shone on my pale skin as I dazed out. It looked like the perfect day for the beach.

            "Hey Chris," I shouted, "do you want to go to Seaside today?"

            "Sure," Chris answered from his dad's bedroom. " Why do you want to go there?"

            "I want to enjoy the nice weather and get my lip pierced."

            Chris came out of the bedroom and gave his normally phony smile then said, "Can we do it tomorrow? I kind of want to stay in today."

            "No, because I know you and tomorrow will never come," I snapped back.

            "Come on Kim, I don't feel like going to Seaside today," Chris said.

            "Why not? It's so nice out."

            Chris and I fought for an hour about what do. Finally, after an hour had passed, Chris gave in and agreed to get out of the house. I grabbed my keys and bag, while Chris put his wallet in his pocket. He then followed me out to my 1995 white Mustang in the lot in back. I opened the driver door and jumped in and unlocked the passenger door. I started the Mustang and drove off. We hit rush hour and shore traffic on the way down. Shore traffic happens every day in the summer after 4 because people are done with work and go down the shore to relax after their day.

            Chris complained about everything on the way down, like the music I picked, whether the window should be up or down, how close I was getting to a car, the text messages I received, and his arm. He was leaving for Afghanistan in a few days and recently gotten a smallpox shot. A wound had started to develop on his left arm. Chris thought picking at the small bump would make the pain go away. He was wrong and started to complain about how he didn't feel good and wanted to go back.

            "Chris, we're almost there. I'm not turning around now," I said, shaking my head at him.

            Chris was the type of boyfriend who always wanted his way, but I accepted this because I loved him. That day, I wanted to do something I had wanted to do since I was sixteen years old. When I was a teenager, I was highly influenced by the punk style and music like Anti-Flag, Pennywise, The Used, Good Charlotte, Green Day and others. The punk style had a certain look I followed religiously: piercings, tattoos, having crazy hairstyles, unnatural hair color, wearing bright or black clothing, and excessive numbers of jelly brackets or skull necklaces. I had everything I wanted to complete the punk look, except for having my lip pierced. My hair had purple or yellow blonde highlights in a dark brown base color with long bangs, covering my face. The highlights were equally placed apart from each other in tiny lines. My long bangs had more purple or blonde. I had several other piercings already, such as a rook (upper ear), two cartingles, and loops.  

            Every time I had tried getting my lip done before, something always had stopped me, such as no money, broken plans with Chris or my friends, my parents refusing to sign for it, or no way down to the beach. That day I was on a mission to get my lip pierced. No one was going to stop me, not even my boyfriend.

            Chris didn't give up until I pulled into a parking spot, grabbed my handbag and stepped out of my car. Chris was texting someone still seated in the passenger seat. I waited from outside and texted my best friend, Lissa, to tell her what I finally was getting done. Chris came out of my Mustang as I sent the text.