My bike is cooler than me, so it creates a better impression than I do. However, I know the impression it had on me before I owned it. The first Cinelli B I ever saw was owned by George at Parts Unknown in Toronto. It was his favourite bike and he showed it to me in the back alley of Kensington Market one frosty winter morning, and I just lusted after that bike. His was BEAT, with chipped up black paint, no hoods and a cheap saddle, but the Cinelli crest on the seat-tube, the chrome lugs and the overall aura that bike gave off just killed me. He wouldn't even consider selling it, and said it was his retirement fund. The next one I saw was blue, again with a terrible bloated saddle for some reason and also in Kensington. It was way to small for me but nonetheless I waited around like a creepy stalker until the young lady that owned it (her father ran a high-end bike shop) showed up and I offered to buy it and probably frightened her. When my B showed up on craigslist, I was prepared to move heaven and earth to get it, and I did. The funny thing is, it gets probably less compliments than any other high end bike I've owned, and nobody notices it, but I don't care. To me it's like a magic carpet, and I feel like Aladdin when I'm riding it. The fact that no one else gives a crap about it makes me like it even more.