Compliance & Carnage: My Hilarious Hellscape of Body Mod Compliance as a Bookkeeper

 Alright, buckle up buttercups, because we're diving into the thrilling world of compliance in the body modification industry. That is, as seen through the weary, but still slightly glitter-dusted eyes of a piercing and tattoo loving client turned bookkeeper. Prepare for a rollercoaster of regulations, paperwork, and the occasional existential crisis. 

You think balancing books is tough? Try balancing the books while simultaneously ensuring your clients aren't accidentally turning into glow-in-the-dark radioactive mutants due to improper ink handling. 

Here's a taste of the regulatory rodeo:

"The Paper Trail of Pain (& Piercings)"

• Consent forms? We've got 'em. Aftercare instructions? Mountains of them. Proof of sterilization? Enough to wallpaper a small apartment. And every single document has to be meticulously filed because apparently "I thought I signed something" is NOT a valid legal defense. 
• I swear, if I see one more form that requires a client to initial 25 different places, I am going to start charging extra for hand cramps...and maybe arthritis. 

"The Ink Inquisition"

• Tracking ink inventory isn't just about knowing how many shades of "dragon's breath red" we have left. It's about ensuring every bottle is properly labeled, stored and compliant with local, provincial and federal...maybe even intergalactic regulations. 
• I've spent more time decoding ingredient lists than a chemist trying to crack the periodic table. And do NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED on the "organic, vegan, cruelty-free, gluten-free, ethically sourced, artisanal, hand-pressed, moon bathed" ink that costs more than my apartment.

"...because apparently "I thought I signed something" is NOT a valid legal defense."

"The Sterilization Saga"

• Sterilization records are the holy grail...like...Monty Python style...of compliance. Every autoclave cycle, every instrument, every surface must be documented with the precision of a NASA rocket launch. Because apparently, "I thought it was clean," is not good enough for the health department or the Nova Scotia Safe Body Art Act and it's regulations. 
• I have had to learn more about biohazard waste than I ever wanted to know. I can now tell you what bag goes with what type of bodily fluid. It has not been a positive addition to my skillset...and sometimes makes people think that I could have the potential to be the next Jeffrey Dahmer. 

"The Licensing Labyrinth"

• Licenses for artists, licenses for studios, licenses for equipment, licenses for breathing in general in the general vicinity of a needle. It's a bureaucratic jungle out there.
• I have spent countless hours scouring websites that look like they were designed in 1995, trying to figure out if we need a "permit for the placement of decorative glitter within a 10 foot radius of a client."

"The Inspector's Inquisition"

• Health inspections are like surprise visits from your mother-in-law, only with more clipboards and less passive-aggressive commentary.
• I've become a master of hiding stray glitter and quickly sanitizing surfaces while maintaining a claim and professional demeanor. It's basically an Olympic sport. 

"The Record Retention Ruckus"

• Keeping records for years and years. I have boxes and boxes of records that I swear go back further than my high school graduation. I have tried to rent an extra storage unit. And I am pretty sure the small colony of spiders have started their own civilization inside of the boxes. 

Despite the regulatory madness, there is a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing that we are keeping things safe and legal. And hey, at least I'm never bored. Plus, I've got a killer collection of sterilization log spreadsheets. And A LOT of glitter.