Four Days

OK, maybe I just had a bad SF experience. Actually, that's not true; we had a great day,overall. My work finished by noon. We walked to Chinatown. Mrs Schwartz and I are the sort of people that prefer to stay off the guided tours. We prefer to get into the neighborhood, like a local.
We walked through Chinatown, looking for a place to eat lunch. We must have looked at ten places, before settling on one on a side street. The place was filled with chinese locals. We sat down. A chinese girl walked by our table.
"Shrimp Roll?"
Uh, ok?

So I got four huge shrimp rolls. They were delicious. Throughout the meal, other girls would walk around the restaurant with different foods. They would come out, yelling something in Chinese.
Let me tell you, most chinese food is not well-suited for chopsticks. Stirfry? Yes? Everything else? No. Most of the time, the chinese lean way over their plate and shovel the food into their mouths.
Four huge shrimp rolls are not designed for chopsticks. I struggled with it for a while before one of the waitresses took pity on me and brought be a fork.
From there, we walked to the curviest road in the universe and took pictures of it.
Then we went to the Fisherman's Wharf, which is the touristiest part of town. That also means it's the area most plagued by deadbeats.
For those of you who are unclear on my perspective,
I think homeless beggers are breathing air that should go to a good dog.
They are worthless wastes of space. They should never be given money or food, so that they are free to make the choice to work for their livelihood, or die. Either option is fine by me.
I tolerated them nagging me for money. I even tolerated their stupid scams: The let-me-guess-what-city-you're-from, The here's-a-ticket-for-not-smiling, even The I-hide-and-jump-out-and-yell-to-startle-you (I swear to god, that was this toothless idiot's scam. Who the fuck would give him money after that? I almost killed him)

We came upon a guy dressed in a dog costume, who had three poor dogs as props. The dogs all were old. They had hats and sunglasses tied on them, that especially the dalmation was continually pawing at to remove.
Mrs schwartz sat on one bench and I sat on another. I was going to take a picture of the dogs, but when I raised my camera, the new memory chip needed configuring (time, date, etc)
I was configuring it when dog-boy came over to me and said, "Do you want to take a picture with the dogs?" Not if you're going to nag me for a dollar.
"No"
At that point, I went about fussing with my backpack and my camera.
After a minute or so, dog-boy came back to me.
Dog-boy: Do you want to take a picture of the dogs?
Exador: No
Dog-boy: Because I saw you pointing your camera at them
Exador: I didn't take a picture of your dogs.
Dog-boy: You're a lying #%@&*!
Exador pointing and laughing at him.

We got up to leave. He continued calling me everything but Jesus.
What amazed me is not that he was bitching at me; he obviously had no sale with me anyway. He had completely offended the crowd of old lady tourists that were gathered for his formerly-cutesy shtick.
Exador: "You're a hell of a businessman."
Dog-boy: ^%&*@#$
Exador: I guess that's why you're in a dog costume.

After that, I was on edge. We got on the trolly car that would bring us back to our hotel. Of course, it's crowded, and there's always at least one stinking homeless loser. The car stopped and didn't move for several minutes. Some girl worked her way through the pack, then announced, in her best Rosie Perez voice, "The driver's gone!"
It turns out there was some problem with the car in front of us and the driver decided to go and pitch in without mentioning anything to us.
We waited for several more minutes. People started getting off the car.
We finally got off the car and started walking. The car caught up to us and we rode it for a while, but got off early because our driver chose not to announce any of the stops, and we had to guess. We still beat the car to our corner.