Coming to terms

In my head I know that when fellows spout off random (well known) facts in a tone that suggests that they're experts on the subject ("People nowadays use whitewash to paint furniture, then rub it off with a rag or sandpaper to make it look old." Really? Are you referring to a decade-old trend which I may have more access to than you on account of my fulfilling societally imposed gender norms, love loving HGTV, and actually having distressed furniture...) they don't mean harm. They're not, probably, trying to imply that I'm uninformed or unintelligent. They are, probably, trying to be friendly and make conversation. In every nerve and cell and bone, however, I want to punch them in the nose and run the other way.

On the other hand: those of you to whom I've pretended to be expert (and there are a lot of you), gross, and to whom I've condescended (there's no other way to write this! I love apologizing for being a myopic, unfounded, elitist using whom.) I'm so sorry. Thanks for not punching me in the nose? Blech.