"Thank a Tank" or My Life as a Meat Shield
Welcome fellow Meat Shields. Now some may object to that term but we meat shields have long held important and necessary position in the horde. Absorbing arrows and hot oil for our lords doesn't seem all that glamorous. But remember our lord allows us to live in his hovels, work in his mud and give our produce to his castle. With all these benefits some still complain. Don't be like them, stand up and take that trebuchet missile with pride. In fact, you all can stand here right in front of me.
Last year my wife and I visited an Asian country and had the privilege of petting fully grown tigers. During the visit the tiger moved expectantly and everyone in the group ran and cowered behind me. That is when I realized that being a meat shield is something society bestows on you automatically, based on size and slowness. There were earlier hints like when in 9th grade my friends picked a fight with another group of kids and then all stood behind me. In football we were made linebackers, the human tanks genetically destined to take the hits for others. Okay, I am resigned to this fact now, but I just wish there had been some kind of training along the way. Something to set the proper expectations for us growing up, a meat shield support group if you like.
Someplace we could stand up and say, “Hi my name’s Alan and I’m a tank.”
If you know someone who is a tank be sure to say, “Thanks tank, for having my front.”