I was carrying a freshly painted '85 chrome lugged Cinelli, done with Enzo paint, hand-polished Super Record, new decals, cleared, the whole shebang.
It was almost 7 o'clock on a Friday evening, at a bike shop across the street from the restaurants and nightclubs of downtown Greenville NC.
It was not a bystander comment. A nicely dressed couple came the other way, the guy saw the bike, turned to his lady, and said "you go on, and if I'm not there in 20 minutes, order and eat. I gotta look at this bike."
It took 40 minutes to talk about it, easy.