Monday was a dead day and I went to grocery store with wife just because I was feeling, well you know, all festive and stuff and I was bored. The bell ringer was waving and smiling and ringing her bell like Christ himself was being born right there in the potato chip isle.
Feeling a little festive as I always do this time of year, I approach the kettle with a $20 in hand. Jolly St. Pat was still ringing her bell and and just as I go to drop it in the kettle she whacks the side of the kettle with her bell which caused it to come apart. The handle stayed in her hand and the bell went sailing through the air.
400 other people coming and going in the store and the bell hits me right above the left eye. Now mind you, this ain't no "ring a bell for the butler bell", this is like a "fixins is on the table" cow bell that probably weighs a pound. First words out of my mouth are, "Oww, S*t, I didn't even really want to come here". I feel my wife pinch my elbow and realized she must be thinking, "oh no please don't go off on this poor lady".
I think my wife helped to distract me because I just stared at the bell lady without saying another word. At some point in those few moments, I must have snapped internally because I bent over and picked up the end of the bell and said to the bell lady, "I'm keeping the gotdamn bell" and swiftly put in my hoodie pocket. So now instead of going to the store for a roasted chicken, I have to get some bandaids and neosporin to plug the wound given to me by jolly St. Pat.
I'll have to finish the rest when I'm not so drowsy.