Well my it was my ears that got the first impression. buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I thought I was at the dentist. I peered around the surly receptionist (who wore black....everything) and saw the noise- this maori guy with what looked like a homemade gun playing light sabers with this guys arm.
Then the lady came over. She was just a nice middle-aged woman who looked, well- normal. My friend Beth came with me- she had her's done a couple of weeks ago and becuase she's a med student I trusted the hygiene and general practice of this middle aged woman called Pip.
Anyway, I embarrased myself/and Beth, by producing 2 pieces of paper with my design in millions of sizes and fonts...to be exactly sure of course.
So she did this fake impression on me and it was all ok, until I decided it was to thick- so I made her do it again.
In normal situations the response to- "Sorry, I should have told you before" would result in "No worries!". But instead I got a short "Yes you should have". riiight. Sort of reasurring though- this woman who is in control and not too polite.
So I sat down and boy the adrenaline was pumping- it was surging through me- I had the goofiest grin on my face.
Ps- the scene- it was:
I couldn't decide to look or not. It was this little gun thing with a needle pumping at a millions miles an hour at me. Then it all went black and I woke up on a fluffy cloud with the letter box number 9.
People describe the pain as a cat's claw, or a serious sunburn. I call it one word- "searing". I confess im a wuss- I don't remember breathing at all.
No pain no gain. But when she said "Only 10 mins to go" I whimpered, audiably.
There was a guy next to me getting his arm thingy extended and I tried to make conversation with him as I was getting settled. Now I know why he just stared at me. Its hard to talk when you can't breathe.
Anway, I did it. wow. And lurve it.
Afterwards Beth and I went to Esquires, drank to see the new yr in and took pics.
This is her's- the butterfly and mine. aww.