Get The Hell Out of Dodge.

A while back while running in golden gate park, a homeless man went out of his way to trip me. When I got up, i gave him this confused look of disappointment. Not so much anger, just more of a, "why would you do that to me?"
Laurentiu gave me the same look today when we met up and I told him I wouldn't marry him.
To be on the receiving end of that look is really hard. honestly, i felt terrible. If you've ever been lost or desperate in a foreign country, you know how hard it is to ask favors of people. You're kind of at their mercy. Granted, this was a huge favor, but still. If there was any other way that I could legally help him out, I would. Fraud just isn't for me. I can't fake laugh, how can I fake a marriage?
But he kept going on and made me feel so bad, I started to get pissed. I feel like I'm constantly apologizing. My whole job is to anticipate complaints, and when I fail to do so, say sorry like a million times. I'm so over it. I'm forever trying to find a universal truth and I think I've hit upon one. People are babies.
In the service industry, you're paid to apologize and smile when people do one or all of these things:
1) whine
2) Complain in hopes of getting free shit
3) Be babies.
And rich people are by far and away, the biggest most ridiculous babies. They're like those babies who wear glasses. Why does that child need corrective lenses? Will it be reading later, before it poops in it's pants? But I'm paid to listen to these people cry, often literally, over spilled milk.
Tonight a man called to yell at me because I "lied to him" about the grouper. The menu says grouper, we were substituting a halibut, he refused to hear it the 9 times I said it, so I just let him continue to say grouper. It's like when you're talking to someone and they keep calling you the wrong name, eventually you'll just start responding to 'Samantha.'
Anyway, it all hit me all at once that this is my life. This man, yelling at me on the phone over a piece of fish, this is what I do.
And I'm not sure if it was the combination of my failed marriage and the complaint. Or the weather, or the 'time to bake the donuts' routine I've been stuck in, but I'm so over it.
I'm in full-blown office space mode now people, I'm serious. I'm just looking for the most entertaining way to get fired, and then I think I'm packing up. It's late, I know, but you get flashes of clarity when a wealthy man is calling you a liar, and you say things like, "dude, I can't marry you," and feel guilty about it.