When I first saw the Falcon, it was at the gas pumps at a Circle-K, with its roof down and its hood up. A young man of thirty-five, or so, was peering into the engine compartment, but from the look on his face and his body languge, it didn't appear that he knew what he was looking for... or probably looking at. 'Nice car,' I said as I walked over while my own tank filled. 'Having a problem with it?'