Sure...go ahead. Apologize. Sure. But I know I was something. I was more than just something you have to apologize for. I meant something to you. You can forget all those others...and you may never eat at an Applebee's again...but you and I both know you'll never be able to eat Cheetos in the fire stairs of a Hampton Inn without thinking of me, tied up in the trunk of your rental Buick, wearing nothing but my tie and strategically painted spots of green fingernail polish. Those were the best seven hours of my life...YOU BASTARD! WHY DON'T YOU FEEL!