Don't talk to strangers, honey.

The flight to Raleigh-Durham was pretty uneventful, that is if ignore the major turbulence and the 5 year old kid who sat next to me, and cried most of the way. And when Junior wasn't crying he was picking his nose. When he wasn't crying or picking his nose, he was trying to show me his findings. "Look, mister! Look!." I looked: It was a booger. "It's a booger, kid." I thought my reply was obvious, but he continued. "Look, mister! Look!" I looked again, and it was still a booger. "It's still a booger, kid!" His mother pulled him close to her and cautioned him: "Don't talk to strangers, honey." I immediately started to miss the turbulence.

I had made my flight plans tight, as I hate being away from Amy and Delilah for an extended amount of time. So, I arrived around noon, then would leave about 2:00PM. I thought two hours would be enough.

The owner of the motorcycle was a perfect match for me. He was outgoing, considerate, and very informative of the bike. The drive to his house was about 30 minutes. When you consider the drive back to the airport, I would have about one hour to check the bike out.

When we arrived at his house, he immediately opened the garage door, and then started the bike. I gazed over it as she officially greeted me: "Ah, Angelo: Ho aspettato per voi." I had been waiting for it, too.

The sidecar wasn't attached to it, so I was able to just sit and relax on the bike. They say you'll know the right bike for you when you find it. I quickly knew I had found my bike. After a brief time talking and planning, I gave him a check. I officially bought the bike! Now all I had to do was tell my wife.