Famished at work, I pillaged the kitchen cabinets looking for something–anything–to eat. I came across a jar of peanut butter marked “Brian.”
I thought about just helping myself. Brian was a nice guy, after all; he wouldn’t mind, I rationalized. But then manners and civility won out and I intercommed him to ask permission.
“Sure,” Brian answered. “Help yourself. But I have to warn you I eat straight out of the jar.”
I was glad I asked!
photo by D. Scott Lipsey
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