You're mid-sentence explaining why you hate cilantro when your friend's eyes go completely still—like you've just activated their screensaver. You keep talking because stopping feels worse, so you pivot to cilantro's molecular structure, then cilantro in ancient Rome, then whether cilantro has dreams. Twenty seconds in, you realize you're not having a conversation; you're auditioning for a true-crime podcast where you're definitely the suspect. They finally blink and say, "Sorry, what?" You say, "Cilantro," and walk away knowing they've won something you didn't even know you were competing in.