So I'm cruising North Roosevelt Boulevard on my wife's ET4 riding toward a date with my wife on Stock Island and I pass a guy sitting up on his own ET4. He's focused on riding in the busy big city traffic. Meet Gianpiero on his second day as a Key West resident.
He caught up to me at the traffic light and we say hi as Vespa riders do. One doesn't need a Vespa, one rides a Vespa instead of a Chiang Zhou because one loves a Vespa. He leaned across and asked, nodding at my cream colored ride, Is there a dealer in Key West? Very funny so I elect to show him the way to Jiri, jack-of-all-trades in the Key West motorcycle world. Gianpiero (Jan-pier-oh) counts himself a Venetian so I guess he will fit in nicely in the Key West island life, especially as he moved here from the Big Apple. But he's worried about corrosion on the love of his life so he and Jiri start to talk about ordering parts to keep the Vespa 150 looking good.
I hand Gianpiero one of my new cards, he is actually the first recipient-stranger and slip away to my appointment. It was a busy afternoon on Stock Island where Steve needed to move his boat and the cross winds were making the operation tricky for a crew-less Captain.
Steve is a teacher on Stock Island who lives in Key Colony Beach and wanted a pied-a-terre in Key West to reduce his commute. The lure of the romance of sail snagged him after a lifetime as a stink potter and he bought a rather nice Hunter 31 in Marathon, sailed it to Key West (marveling at the economy of a sailboat under power) and wants to explore the waters around the city at the very end of the road.
We moved the boat with some rather indispensable help from one of Steve's new neighbors, repaired to the clubhouse for beer and snacks. I had iced tea on the grounds that turning up to work smelling of Red Stripe might not be too suave and considered one more useful workday afternoon in the bag.
He caught up to me at the traffic light and we say hi as Vespa riders do. One doesn't need a Vespa, one rides a Vespa instead of a Chiang Zhou because one loves a Vespa. He leaned across and asked, nodding at my cream colored ride, Is there a dealer in Key West? Very funny so I elect to show him the way to Jiri, jack-of-all-trades in the Key West motorcycle world. Gianpiero (Jan-pier-oh) counts himself a Venetian so I guess he will fit in nicely in the Key West island life, especially as he moved here from the Big Apple. But he's worried about corrosion on the love of his life so he and Jiri start to talk about ordering parts to keep the Vespa 150 looking good.
I hand Gianpiero one of my new cards, he is actually the first recipient-stranger and slip away to my appointment. It was a busy afternoon on Stock Island where Steve needed to move his boat and the cross winds were making the operation tricky for a crew-less Captain.Steve is a teacher on Stock Island who lives in Key Colony Beach and wanted a pied-a-terre in Key West to reduce his commute. The lure of the romance of sail snagged him after a lifetime as a stink potter and he bought a rather nice Hunter 31 in Marathon, sailed it to Key West (marveling at the economy of a sailboat under power) and wants to explore the waters around the city at the very end of the road.We moved the boat with some rather indispensable help from one of Steve's new neighbors, repaired to the clubhouse for beer and snacks. I had iced tea on the grounds that turning up to work smelling of Red Stripe might not be too suave and considered one more useful workday afternoon in the bag.
3 comments:
Nicely done!
We will make a people person of you yet.
Not quite there myself,
Chuck.
Bloody people. I had dinner at the Uzbek Cafe on Kennedy and I couldn't bring myself to do the people thing. the food was great though. As usual.
They're Uzbeks. Not the most personable people on earth. Industrious - yes. Friendly - no.
They seem somewhat out of place in KW - like a suit which doesn't fit.
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