Here's a purely hypothetical example that is in no way based on reality: Let's say you're at the grocery store, mentally weighing the pros and cons of potential burrito fillings. After careful debate, you pay for your two dozen tortillas and 20 cans of chili (it's beans and meat pre-mixed! Holy s**t! Is there a Nobel Prize for Burrito Construction?), but as you turn to go, the cashier hands you the bag all wrong -- like kind of sideways and twisting it a little bit at the crucial hand-off point. It slips right through your fingers, and you drop it, sending chili cans rocketing in every direction and drawing the other customers' attention to your secret gastrointestinal shame. Now you're embarrassed, you're annoyed and you start wondering why he did that: Don't they have, like, bag handling classes or some s**t? What is this guy, a birthday party magician at Chuck E. Cheese's; what kind of human being hands somebody a bag with a f*****g wrist flourish?
No, he did that s**t on purpose, and now he's just standing there -- not even thinking about helping you -- smirking and exchanging knowing looks with the other customers. He's an a*****e, is what he is. You can tell. You can spot an a*****e with a mere glance; you're like the Sherlock Holmes of a*****e detection, and this guy is the Moriarty of assholes. a*****e.