Another thing is this fondness for trivial service. I really don’t like it or need it. Every time I return to the hotel a doorman rushes to open the door for me. Don’t do that, man, really. Don’t lower yourself like that. And don’t call me “sir”. I’m a bloke just like you; no more, no less. I’m also perfectly capable of opening doors for myself. In fact, I prefer to do that. I prefer to wipe my own arse too, you know? I’m an independent man. Stay out of my path. Leave me alone. And have a nice day.