I've been unceremoniously cut off before, but this guy did it with aplomb. It was a holiday weekend with one fuel dock open and a queue of boats circling. Just as I was shaping up to sidle alongside, a go-fast surges between my old convertible and the dock and hits hard reverse. In a flash, the guy is ashore and grabbing the fuel hose the attendant was holding for me. He pointedly doesn't look my way, but his girlfriend, sprawled on the forward sun pad, gives me a "got-ya" smile. OK, it takes all kinds. I shrugged my shoulders and slid into the spot that opened astern of him. The attendant runs over and grabs a line; I look down from the flybridge. The go-fast dude is really in a hurry. He has a bowline casually looped on a dock cleat.
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