In Which the Author Returns to What He Does Best

I do a thing with some people sometimes and after the first couple of times I began to get the distinct impression that one of them did not like me much. As I think is natural in such cases, I found myself asking, "What did I do?"
Seriously?
Well, yeah, obviously I meant *besides* that...
Well how about...
And I was hoping we were passed all that.
And then there's...
I don't really see how that would affect...
Ahem.
Hey now, hardly anyone even knows about that last one.
You don't say?
You know what, just forget I brought it up.