“It seems the missionary was invited to dinner by the local folks without perusing the menu, which would have disclosed that he was the dinner.”
When was the last time you felt as if you were the dinner? Minding your own business and wham – sideswiped and caught off guard.
Maybe it was yesterday at the grocery store when someone was beyond rude. Maybe it was at work (I almost typed office, but then realized that not everyone is unfortunate enough to work in one) and you were suddenly accountable for the outcome of something for which you had no responsibility – and hear about it from the boss that has no business being a boss.
Are you feeling as if you’ve been chopped up into little pieces by someone so that you’ll cook faster? (Not for real, silly, but just figuratively.)
Skewered? Roasted? Baked? Broiled?
Someone I know (and try my best to avoid) prefers to microwave others – you know, get things done quickly. And the pour on the ”gravy” to try and make it better.
All of this from a book about …