Coincidence maybe, conspiracy theory, not. In the case of the stolen wedding dress, it was probably dumb luck and the stupid curiosity to hunt down the gown.
I always wondered how to connect the thief, police, undercover detective and guard at the pound to which they tow cars. The Renault was burglarized and stolen while parked in front of the hotel and across the street from the Spanish Guardia Civil, national force. Of course, it was past midnight on Las Ramblas in Barcelona. Shuffling from police station to station to acquire the necessary papers for insurance took most of the following day. Only at tapas time did things change. It suddenly occurred to me that the areas was louche with more than usual street life. A Latino, not Spaniard, with a round face, stood out. Playing the dumb blond, I approached. He was South American so more open at first, but my stolen car story made him nervous. Was I accusing him? Suddenly in swooped Francisco, a local. He brushed aside the South American and started asking me questions. To this day, I cannot tell if this was a set-up. I knew that cash would lead to clues. I initiated the conversation in an effort to find the dress, the car, …Coincidence or luck? Like the children’s game of truth or dare, we maybe are always playing with fate.