If I had an anchor ring, I'd have a naval navel

Stef had plans to take me out to dinner for my birthday in November, but we never did, so we decided to combine Rachael's birthday on the 14th. We went to Casa Rio and ate, with plans to go to the Tower of America afterwards for dessert. Or so I thought.

"So," Stef said, pushing aside her plate. She leaned forward with Rachael. "Want to go get your belly-button pierced?"

As testament to my capricious nature, I did not reply with, "What, now?" or "No, not tonight," but instead thought for a moment and said, "Sure. You know of a place?"

So at 9:45 at night, we drove to a tattoo parlour on 410, walked through the door, got through the documentation, and now I have a navel piercing.

When I asked Stef on the way if it hurt, she said, "No, it's just a sharp pinch and that's it."

So after the man did mine, Stef and Rachael started laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"We can tell you now," Rachael giggled. "But Stef nearly passed out when she got her's done."

"Part of me is saying, 'Why didn't you tell me?' but most of me is glad you didn't," I said, admiring my new ring.

So yeah. Went out for dessert, came back with body piercing. If all my nights turn out like this, I should go out more often.