Nose up against the bike shop window. I was 22 when I saw the new CBX550 in the window of a small dealership in South Manchester. My girlfriend had to drag me away otherwise I would have been happy to stay there all night instead of going to the pub. My GS550 was suddenly an antique. Three weeks later after a hastily arranged bank loan I was riding mine. The bike was brilliant in every respect other than a flaw in the camchain tensioner, which all too soon led me to move it on. It spent weeks and weeks back in the shop while they swapped out one defective part for another. At least it spared me the task of trying to change the brake pads on the ventilated disks, that was a nightmare by all accounts. I ended up trading it for a Kawasaki Z750 L3, lovely engine, terrible frame and going rusty within months.