No Choppy!

Let's play a game of "What I Should Have Said Versus What I Actually Said." It's a game I just made up, one for which I should probably find a much shorter name. WISHSVWIAS starts with a setup:

The other night I was mincing some garlic in my fancy, expensive Pampered Chef food chopper thingumbob, so I could put it on the scrumptious pizzas I was making. The Pampered Chef food chopper thingumbob looks just like a Slap-Chop but without the annoying headset-wearing white guy attached. When this modern wonder is in operation, it tends to make some noise. I mean, you can use the chopper thingumbob quietly, but only if you want your garlic to be gently caressed by the metal blades instead of, you know, chopped. So about five minutes into my garlic-mincing routine (this includes a break I took to peel some more garlic cloves), the doorbell rings, and standing outside my front door is the mysterious girl who for reasons unknown is living with my two-faced, often belligerent, usually passive-aggressive downstairs neighbor. This girl looks like a mousier version of Darlene from Roseanne, if she dressed like a sad little emo girl and wore glasses.

The next step in the game is to re-enact the conversation that the setup precludes, with What I Should Have Said in nice blue text, and What I Actually Said in orange text. Darlene's text is just plain ol' this color:

<I open the door>

What? It's garlic-chopping season.

Hello.

Umm, yeah, I was trying to work downstairs, and I keep hearing this banging sound...

Are you kidding me? You work from home and you're complaining? Look, it's barely eight o'clock, and I want garlic in my pizza. You gonna take some of your fancy work-from-home money and buy me some pre-minced garlic in a jar? Is it worth that much to you?

Oh, yeah, sorry about that, that was me chopping some garlic for dinner. Sorry about the noise.

Well, umm, it's really loud.

Hey, funny thing about that. My eighteen-month-old daughter is sleeping eight feet away, and she doesn't seem the least bit perturbed by the sound. Maybe you're exaggerating a little, hmm? How 'bout you go back downstairs and do another guest appearance on The Big Bang Theory while I enjoy my delicious garlicky pizza.

All right, sorry about that. I'm done now, so no worries.

mkay, thanks.

Hey, instead of coming up here and bitching you should appreciate the fact that I am in fact settling for coarsely-chopped garlic instead of the finely minced garlic that I really wanted, because mincing would take longer and make more noise, so out of consideration for my crummy neighbors I'm compromising and my pizza experience is diminished as a result!

<darlene goes back downstairs>

I swear, I am waayyy too nice to people. One of these days I'm gonna look social norms in the eye and tell them to drown in a vat of my hot Mexican-food butt-squirts so I can go around being mean and vile to people who tick me off, and then I'll feel bad about it and probably send some handwritten apology notes because I'm really not a mean guy by nature.

Wait, where was I?

Oh yeah. Fear not, Darlene. Taco Bell chopped my vegetables tonight. You and your skinny boyfriend can cut yourselves, and each other, in peace.

Aaaaand the moral of the story is: