To the dude that stole my jacket since I doubt you were trying to protect me from plunging off the deep-end of hipster:

A)    I can assure you that you won’t fit in my jacket;

B)    When you try to pass the jacket off to your gf as some sort of heart-felt gift, I hope she finally reaches her limit of putting up with your lame antics and

1. Splashes her drink—that you hopefully paid for—in  your face; and
2. Tells you after all this time that yes, indeed your suspicions are warranted: you really are bad in bed.

C)    Dude, I’m a Hybrid Socialist raised in America.  I appreciate and like my disposable income, as meager as it might be (currently). So though you set me back a few clams, I’ll just get another jacket, but you my friend have triggered enough ill-vibes to resemble scarily, a fuku.