So this afternoon I was elbows deep in my RHE's induction system, which I have had to basically rip out to gain access to a starter adapter that needed an attitude adjustment. Wrenches and expletives littered the air. A hammer was involved at several points. Somehow people know when I'm stretching my fingertips to their fullest to start some tiny little bit of hardware -- and pop their head in to chat. Today was no different. That mooney guy from across the way who I had never spoken to before -- it was his day today. I usually try to be cordial, but this dude was a puzzlement to me. Skipping pleasantries and pourparlours altogether, he opened with this question to me: "Did you just spend an hour in the pattern?" I looked at him. I looked at the strewn wreckage of my engine and cowling pieces all over the hangar, then looked back at him. I gave a laconic "uhhh.. nope" He then acted like he "got the gist", nodded, and took a different tack. His next question: "Is this that plane that had been sitting for a while?" I bit my tongue. I like my plane a lot and it does not resemble some lazarus hangar project. After tamping down a few rich mouth-filling expletives I had in retort, I settled for another laconic "nope" "Ah" was all he gave me. I gave him that squiggle-eyed look that says "we're done here" I continued turning the fuel line nut with my pinky fingernail. He beetled off back to his hangar or whatever rock he crawled out from under. I mean, what? I'm pretty socially inept, but this was worse banter than anything I've ever done. Anyway, if you were that Mooney guy at KHIO Hillsboro this afternoon, and some D-bag baron owner was immune to your charms and pretended you didn't exist -- sorry. That was me. I am the worst.