Some people have their limits of how much eccentricity they can taste in one sitting, I suppose. [His way of saying that it's fine--hell, Cilan actually does have limits of how much insanity he can handle, he's just better at dealing with or repressing it. He reaches down to pick some stray trash at your feet as well as picking up some other scraps he dropped when he had been about to throw them away before you arrived, still talking.]

So, who might you be? I don't think we've met or spoken before until now...