Red Scooter Guy

I've mentioned him before.
Now, I have learned the true identity of Red Scooter Guy.

The backstory: parked near our scooter, most days, is a wonderful Vespa. It is red and Italian (of course) and is not locked (though this is a minor detail).
Rain or shine, snow or heat, this scooter is at the station.
At first, we thought the owner of the Red Scooter must work very long hours.
K and I might decide to take an early train and the Red Scooter would already be at the station. We might return from the city late at night - the Red Scooter would be there.
Then we realized that the Red Scooter was often there for days on end (snow on the seat).
Why, I found myself wondering, why would this guy leave his scooter for a few days at a time?
I found myself speculating on him. Who was he? What might he do for a living?
Finally, after months of intense focus on the Red Scooter, I spied its owner.
Tall and not unattractive, Red Scooter guy dashed off the train one evening in a well-cut suit.
He strode quickly to the parking area, grabbed his helmet (most scooters have a helmet stowing trunk of sorts), hopped on his scooter and flew out the entrance to the parking lot.
It was like catching a glimpse of a rare bird.
I was terribly excited and further intrigued.
Out the entrance?! Brazen.
Months passed.
I had another sighting of Red Scooter Guy.
I saw him in my car on the train - I moved quickly to be able to observe him "casually."
The lovely suit, no briefcase or newspaper, and on his cell phone.
I detected an accent I could not place...Australian? European?
I couldn't get close enough to hear clearly.
He hurried to his scooter and stood a moment before finishing his call, hopping on the scooter and speeding away.
I was very excited. I noticed that he headed north.
But it gets better.
One day at lunchtime, I was headed down the block - just across from The Well Known Real Estate Office on my street, when suddenly, I saw Red Scooter Guy walk out of the building.
Was he looking for an apartment? How could he be on my block?
Very Intriguing.
Of course, I phoned K immediately. (I should point out that my interest in Red Scooter Guy is nothing but boring to K.)
I reported my sighting and speculated a bit more.
Two nights later, I was in the station in town musing over the people who had not bought new monthly tickets. There were long lines of people waiting to use the ticket machines and there he was again. I was finally able to get a good long look at him and confirm all visual information.

That weekend, whilst folding laundry (or ironing, or sitting eating chocolate, who knows!) I was surfing channels on television. I landed upon Selling New York and eagerly watched as I have a plan (which I will discuss later) in which K and I purchase an apartment close to my office - but that's a post for another day. I was sitting and watching (and, I assure you, folding laundry) when who do I see? There? On Selling New York? Red Scooter Guy.
I grab for a pencil and write down his name.
It's a South African accent.
He has a home near mine (well, near in as much as he lives in the ultra-deluxe part of town and I live near the police station) and, I would assume, a place in the city.
You cannot imagine my delight in having observed this fellow for nearly two years and, after careful examination and some cautious spy/stalking work, having identified him.
That he is, for the moment, a minor celebrity, is much less thrilling to me than that I have waited it out, compiled the facts and learned, at last, his true identity.
I am considering going into detective work as a side-line.