I am certain that on occasion, true romance is forged from the rough collision of metals; like a love match resulting from a fender bender during rush hour. But gentlemen, I can assure you, the drunken destruction of a woman's property is not usually the way to her heart. We prefer the immense pressure placed on carbon for millions of years that creates diamonds. But I digress. On Saturday morning I got up and noticed skid marks on the dock by my boat and a mat like the one you'd find on a car floor. I didn't think much of it until I went to open my dock box and found the clasp and lock already smashed off. I rummaged through the dock box, searching for the things I'd rather keep than lose. Everything was in order, but something was afoot. I sprung into Marina CSI mode with the clues I had at my disposal. It slowly dawned on me that there must have been a collision between my dock box and the drunken would-be Lothario who drives his scooter up and down the dock. I walked down to the end of the dock and made a positive match between the mat lying on the dock and the scooter parked next to Lothario's houseboat/den of iniquity. The scratch marks on the scooter were also consistent with the height of the scuffs on my dock box. I had managed to solve a mystery at 7.30am, faster than Nancy Drew, all while operating on a serious sleep deficit. Impressive.And just out of curiosity, I waited a couple of days to see if the perpetrator would come forward himself. Human nature rarely disappoints; a confession was not forthcoming. But when confronted, he was sheepish and quick to admit to the collision. He was even a bit flirty, but not outrightly lewd like he had been a couple months ago while making a gamey proposition at a dockside party. When he came to fix the clasp himself today, I made myself scarce, not wanting to lead the Lothario on to believe that this incident might open the door for a great romance, let alone any brief or indecent coupling. I issued a flat thanks before leaving and went on my way, reminding myself not to be effusive since this wasn't the same as a favour from a man who fixes something of mine that he didn't actually break.
