I do not get jealous.
YOU get jealous.
Oh, my mistake. I must have imagined that murderous gleam in your eye when the waitress at the restaurant we went to yesterday gave me dessert that I didn’t even order. Just like I must have subsequently imagined the fact that the busboy dropped that tray of dishes whilst staring at me.
My sincerest apologies, John.
Yeah, well you chased off ALL of my girlfriends since I moved in with you.