No fault of my own, I cook myself

Am I at fault,
For your giggles,
and will they hold me
in contempt of everything dear,
because
you appear to be
a gourmand of middle-class comedy
and I am
only a chef
of the third rate
who knows his crowd?

And what if the chef
is suddenly suave
one of those days
just for a little bit,
did it need an intervention,
really(!?)
of a concerned person
to advise you
to hold the horses
of your unrestrained
laughs?
Is it a crime
to appreciate
middle-brow college humor?

In any case,
I got to be going,
and the drinks of your choice
and all of your likes
that were peppered
(talk of the customer
taking the initiative!)
throughout
doth make the outsider
wonder
if something
might be cookin'.