Now I'll Never Know!

Here's a snippet of an actual conversation I recently had with a friend (who will remain nameless unless she wants to out herself, which I doubt after she reads the post): 

Nameless Friend: What do you hate more than anything?
LAB: Digital watches.
NF:   No, what do you *really* hate more than anything.
LAB: I guess the only thing I hate more than digital watches is the Oxford comma.
NF:   No.
LAB:  Stop saying no.  You asked me what I hate the most and I told you.  You don't get to tell me I'm wrong.
NF:    No what do you really, really, really hate most of all.
LAB:  Seriously?  OK, I guess it's men who wear sleeveless shirts on airplanes and then sit next to you and rub their underarm hair all over your shoulder.
NF:   Gross.  And nope.
LAB:  You're obviously trying to tell me a story about something I hate.  Can you just get on with it?
NF:   No.  You're ruining it.
LAB:  How am I ruining it?  You're asking.  I'm answering.  We're conversing.  Tell the damn story.
NF:   Forget it.
LAB:  Are we even speaking the same language? Is this what people feel like when they're talking to me?  I don't like this feeling.  Is that what I hate most of all?
NF:   No.  God.  Never mind.
LAB:  But what do I hate most of all? 
NF:    Not telling.
LAB:  Shit.