Ouch

My ears are still feeling it.

My friend Dennis called me up the other day to ask if I'd like to go to St. Jude's (the church of the famous novenas of lost causes) for a free acupuncture session. I was hesistant. Actually, I didn't want to go at all.

I mean really, needles? Fun?
Unless heroin or something is involved, those two words don't go together, do they?
But just to be social, I went. (I wasn't driving, so I didn't have much choice either did I?)

The accupuncturists were part of a group called Accupuncturists Without Borders
(I'm not making this up,I swear). Much like Doctors without Borders, I assume, they travel around helping the disadvantaged.

We entered the church hall, which smelled of mold and rubbing alcohol. In the center, under the florescent lights was a circle sundry people sitting on folding chairs in absolute silence.

There were 4 twenty somethings, clearly not from here. (One can always tell). I guessed they were Common Grounders...members of a sort of post-Katrina "action" group. They were all very Peace Corp-ish looking, with fashionably shaggy hair and a vague gay vibe.
There were some older women (parishoners I suppose), us, and a few other oddlings, like the buxom, very tanned 30 something year old woman in short shorts, her bright hot pink painted toenails distracting me from a seat away.

The accupuncturists were a couple, very earnest and granola-ey, if that paints a picture. They very very quiet. The padded around the silent room checking up on each of us, smiling silently, the way you might expect a cult member to.

To my surprise, the needles hurt more than I expected them to. This was the consensus in fact. Everyone said the same thing, that they hurt more than we expected them to. It was a slight pain, but a pain just the same.

Before getting our own needles, we could see our peers

After having the 10 or so needles implanted in our ears, we sat silently for 30 minutes. I don't know if accupuncture helps or not, but sitting still for 30 minutes in complete silence is sure to help in one way or another. That was another consensus. The jury is still out on the accupuncture, but staring at hot pink toenails for 30 minutes is Zen.

Now if only those plastic surgeons I see on tv---you know, the ones who are always volunteering their services to the helpless harelips and Ebola victims in the jungle----come to town I'll be set.