What’s the last thing you refused that still haunts you?

I said no to a guest who wanted me to sneak a live lobster into their room for a ‘romantic gesture.’ I didn’t even know what to do with my hands after. Now I keep wondering—was it the lobster, or the way they looked at me like I was the villain in a story they’d already written? The city smells like wet pavement and regret at 5am, and somehow that feels like an answer.