The jazz musician Tony Coe liked to tell a story against himself.
He often got friends to drive him to gigs, as for a Sunday lunchtime show at a country pub. Tony did the gig, had his lunch and went back to the car.
The passenger seat was littered with country and western cassettes. “What are you doing with all this crap?” he said, and started throwing them out.
The driver – a complete stranger – turned round and said: “Who are you?”
