Wednesday morning ...
I rise reluctantly, too little sleep and too much silence spend three to four quarters of an hour before being capable of discernment, usual breakfast. The day before
Fraim had completed the practices used to make a sale, like a jewel dating from 1968 that has just come home. Back from his tour, as excited as a child, almost discontent would soon have to take the car to begin a journey.
I had never ridden a Vespa, and a bit I was ashamed. With a bit of fear, I pick up the middle, I sit on it, pushing the crank, pull a little out of the muffler and the acceleration device a particular sound, that pa pa pa that bothers many and that only few can to understand, first, let up the clutch, gas and a wire part, failing to see the little wheels you feel as if suspended in mid-air, second, the gear gets more fluid, third, traveling. "The rear brake is a foot ..." I repeat, "that if you nail the front and print on the asphalt ...". I go to plan, for each gear shift knob on the eye drops to avoid mistakes; Birago date back away, fly to Port Rudiae appointment with the city traffic, so far I have not done shit and decide to continue, I'll take viale Gallipoli stopped at the traffic lights to green division and an excess of confidence makes me turn off the engine, I apologize to those before I move to the roadside and to share, to between two and three horn inevitable protest, crowds, crank, the first second, third, fourth ... you fly. Viale Otranto, Via Cavallotti, I am master of the road, slalom between the parked cars in the queue, look at the others: comfortable as some on the "easy" scooter, who encapsulated inside the car. Politeama traffic light, red, scooter alongside me, looking at me and goes "Bella Vespa, what year is it?" "68" I say, "It 's beautiful" "Thanks." I look around. I feel observed, two old men look at me, perhaps with a touch of nostalgia when Wasps were the owner of the road. "We are not here advertising for us," I say to my Vespa ...
Green, this time I'm not mistaken, and fast delivery to home. I tamed the beast, or maybe she decided that she wanted to be tamed.
During this tour I realized the difference between a simple and a Vespa scooter. The scooter is lightweight, simple, and it speeds up it goes, that's all, little trouble, little soul, little heart, the sale will not be selling off: every movement, every shift, must be well measured and never wrong otherwise the wasp making your final pay, but if you're unable to go along, to respect it, you repays all the effort it requires.
get home. I turn off the engine, take off my helmet, get down from the beast and put it to rest on its stand.
the next round.
