At an upscale supermarket I’m waiting to grab a pastry as two women are at work restocking the shelves. A man in his mid-thirties – well dressed, cocky demeanor – approaches and asks the women if they ‘know the pastries’. ‘Um, sure we do,” one responds, ‘we’ve been working here a while. What is it you want to know?’ The man clears his throat. ’Well, which pastry would you recommend?’ The women exchange blank looks. There are at least fifteen different kinds of pastries behind the counter. A beat passes. Finally one says, ‘Well, that depends on your particular tastes. There’s all kinds of pastries in here –’. ‘Yes,’ the man says impatiently, ‘but I’m asking you. I mean, if you’re tried them all, which one do you like?’ I imagine this pretentious man, thinking he’s being generous in soliciting the employees’ opinions (what other reason could he have for making such a vague request?), is hoping to be seen as someone progressive, open-minded, engaging – when in fact he comes across as an entitled, out-of-touch nitwit.