I’ve tweaked my back and currently have a sciatica flare-up deep in my left butt cheek. Normally, this would be a minor annoyance, instead it’s a literal pain to get over as my left knee is immobile due to septic arthritis(gee, thanks MRSA and a dumbass DO, long tale of woe :mad: ). I gimped down my steep driveway to grab my mail and managed to get stuck halfway back up the hill - unable to put pressure on the left leg without it threatening to buckle. I stopped and leaned on a parked car, hoping to snag anyone coming up the hill to lend a hand to help me get up the rest of the way.
About a half-hour later, a car pulled into the parking area and a gentleman popped out and started up the hill. I told him my dilemma and he offered an arm to lean on. A bit awkward with the angle of the driveway so he suggested to have his two car passengers come and help. They came up and with a little finagling, we got up to the top to my apartment.
I thanked 'em for their assistance and noticed one gentleman had a small, blue pin on his lapel…
Fuck.
Meanwhile, another car pulled up and parked, discharging two ladies who were with the guys.
Uhhhg :smack:
Fortunately, they went over to the neighboring apartment complex without peddling their crap, but they did note down my address and promised to send somebody around later to checkup on me.
So now I’m gonna get shitloads of crap dumped at my door and will need to avoid meeting up with their doorknockers
I believe I would listen nicely for a bit, thank them and ask that they not please come again. I may share my beliefs with them if you have any. But sciatica is he’ll, they were nice, so try to be nice. And thankful to the good people.
Yea, and when the robbed and beaten Jew did recover from his wounds, he inquired of the innkeeper who it was who had rescued him from the road. And upon finding out a Samaritan had rescued him, the Jew lifted up his voice to bitch and say, “Now, will this Samaritan not insist upon befriending me, and annoying me with all his Samaritan ways? It would have been better had he left me in the road like the Levite and the Pharisee, for now I will never be rid of him.”
My Daddy was moving a short distance away to another home of his. He hadn’t been in this house long so he didn’t think he needed help.
He found he indeed needed help. Two strong young men with nice shirts and neckties on came by and volunteered. They were on their mission with the LDS church (Mormons).
They got him loaded and offered to follow him to the new place. All together very helpful. He begged them to take pay, but they flatly refused. He saw them many times through out the next year. They rode bikes doing their thing. He stopped and offered them rides. They’d put their bikes in his truck bed and he would take them places. He bought lunch for them on several occasions. Not once did they ever preach or witness (whatever Mormons do) They talked about religion many times. They knew he was a Methodist. He would never let anyone talk bad about Mormons after that.
OP, don’t expect the worst.
I do hope your sciatica clears up. Be careful.
I chat to the one who stands outside my supermarket all day offering leaflets. She cops a lot of abuse with a smile and tries very hard to be comfortable with the friendly lesbian who refuses the literature. I feel very sad for them, if they decide to leave their church they are shunned and that can be incredibly difficult, particularly if you have been raised in it and told stories of outside horrors. I do ask those who come to the door how their god can give them permission to annoy my atheistic arse. They don’t come back for very long times though I see them in the street. I think they only return to see if there are new occupants. It is ok to say no to the preaching even if they did you a favour. I’d hope anyone coming up the hill would have regardless of religion or lack thereof.
Did you ever read Panshin’s Rite of Passage? An important character in the story related to the protagonist an interesting take on the Parable of the Good Samaritan. This is after the protagonist, Mia Havero, is badly beaten and Mr. Kutsov takes her to his home to nurse her back to health.
That’s how every Mormon missionary I’ve seen has done their thing. Just being helpful and friendly. And if you’re interested in chatting about religion, they’re happy to do so.
