Cab driver drops me off at wrong marina—looks rather like a fisherman marina, which I point out. “Oh no, you got the right place here, yeh, this is it.” He says in a very assured tone. I climb out of cab and huff my bags out of the back before he even steps foot out the door. “Here, let me help you” he says salaciously. “Gosh, your strong for such a little thing.” Eye rolls on my part. This after I told him, I was a writer. “Oh, write them there romantic novels do ya?” “Ah, no, just this and that.” Could be dangerous territory, I’m not talking romance novels with this guy.