"It was one of the guy's shops, and it was full of Guzzis. He showed me one bike he called his bambino—his baby—that I fell in love with. It was a Le Mans with a Stucchi fairing. I told him I wanted it, and we set to work negotiating a price. What an ordeal! His friends were yelling the whole time, pointing to parts on the bike and hollering. We had no idea what was going on, but I kept scratching through numbers and writing down something else. We agreed on a price, but I only had Deutsche Marks. The banks were closed, so we piled into cars to go to the airport to exchange the money for Italian Lira. We got the money, found a stewardess to translate the bill of sale for the guy so he'd sign it, and then went back to load the bike. Then this big guy, this Mafia type, starts crying. As it turns out, he'd bought the bike new and was the original owner.