I'm feeling all beat-up and battered and bruised. I suffer from the same on-again, off-agian condition that my mother has of being extremely receptive to busting my veins. Ugh.

My arms have several yellowish colorations on them from knocking myself about at work, and the whole end of my finger is purple having been bitten by a trashcan last night.

Going around the mall with my finger in a cup of ice had to be explained several times, and my brother was mortified that I kept telling people that the trashcan outside of Macy's bit me.

"It can't bite you, it doesn't have teeth!" He yelled exasperated.

So, I went on a tirade on why, yes, trashcan can bite you. It has hinges which could be likened to jaws above the mouth of the container, just like there is a so-called "mouth" of a jar or a bottle, and anything that has jaws can clamp down and efficitvely bite, teeth or no teeth.

Some old people don't have teeth and can still bite, reguardless of whether it hurts or not, though biting usually is associated with pain, which I was very much in. So much so that I begged the people from My Favorite Muffin for the afore mentioned cup of ice.

Therefore yes, the damned trashcan outside of Macy's did bite me.

He retaliated by making a scene in the Jewlery Department.

I wanted something really nice for my mom for Christmas. I decided to have my brother go halves with me for some Peridot birthstone earrings.

Quick, easy, knew what we wanted, in and out, right? WRONG.

There were only 2 saleswomen behind the counter. And about 15 people that needed to be waited on. The earrings I wanted were on the oppisite end of the counter from the pack of insipid people who couldn't decide on an 18-inch necklace and had to see Each and Every ONE.

We waited. We waited some more. Waited patiently. I am not that patient a person, this took effort. My brother, on the other hand, had no problem making a scene.

He sighed. Loudly. He huffed, he puffed, he started saying things like -- "I think Strawbridges is open right now."

Next, "Or maybe I should take my business over to SEARS.", while motioning and making faces at the security camera, jumping up and down so perhaps the security people would send more help to the counter.

Then finally, "Does J.C.-fucking-Pennies have better customer service?"

I was laughing the entire time, also halfheartedly telling him to Shut UP, but that last comment had me gasping for air. It was mean, it was rude, but it was also damn funny.

A woman to my right was getting just as frustrated as us, so when they finally sent over a 3rd saleswoman who asked who was next, I very clearly and unashamely stated that we had been there for over a half an hour and knew what we wanted.

The woman next to us gave me a thank-you look as the none-too-pleased sales woman rang us both up.

The saleslady asked if I wanted a gift recipt. No. My mother is keeping the earrings. She will like them, in fact she will love them, because if not, she is shit-out-of-luck because I'm not going back to Macy's during the after-Christmas rush.

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(This is not smut, or porn and it is not always explict so don't be expecting anything)