Why?

[The baffled look is back on Hank's face. It's thinking about renting a vacation home, maybe staying for a while. God, nice people are weird. Even when he was- different, when the world around him was different, he never had really known what to do with them. He used to be able to fake it okay though and, though he doesn't really regret the loss of that particular skill, it honestly would have moved this conversation along a lot better.]

Look, I don't- I'm not saying this to be mean I'm just, I'm trying to explain where I'm coming from - I've never gotten that need some people have to just like everyone, or have everyone like them. It doesn't say anything about you that you're not friends with one sorry old asshole out of the dozens or hundreds or whatever, of all the weirdoes shoved in this fucking place. I'm not the - I don't know, the one missing piece on your mission to be a great person who likes everyone. You don't even have to not like me, we can just... know each other, you know? What's so wrong with that?