A Damsel in Distress

I may have met my match.  I was riding my bike on the beautiful backroads of Veneto (Italy) and the pedal fell off.  It had started feeling a little funny under my foot and I wasn't sure why, but I kept pedaling.  That is, until I couldn't pedal anymore because it actually fell off and I had to turn around to go pick it up.  Now what?  A damsel in distress that couldn't speak Italian well enough to call someone and have them explain what to do over the phone.  The biggest problem was, I didn't know how to say pedal.  I could say, "The thing that you put your foot on and push around in little circles to make the bike move."  Do you think that would have worked? 
I decided it would be easier to deal with in person.  Fortunately, I had just passed a winery that a friend happens to own.  How cool is that?!  So, I pushed the bike back there and went in.  I knew my friend wasn't there, so I told the first person I saw that I didn't speak Italian very well (because that's what I say) and that I was a friend of Miriam's and I had a problem.  Instead of trying to explain it to her, I took her out to my bike.  She tried all the same stuff that I tried and none of it worked.  We decided to wait until Miriam's brother came back to the shop because he was a man and they can do everything we can't, right?  But, instead of waiting, she left me (I didn't know where she was going) and came back with another man.  He got the pedal on to a point that it wouldn't fall off and then went to his car for a tool and got it on even tighter.  Grazie!
When he left, I asked her who he was.  She said that she didn't know.  She just went in the bar and asked if there was anyone there that wanted to help a beautiful American with her bike (this is the damsel in distress part) and he volunteered.  I'm not sure how pleased he was with the beautiful American, but my pedal was fixed and I asked if I could take his picture and that was that!
I told my new friend to tell Miriam that Tenderly had stopped by for help.  That's what Miriam called me for the first week or two, until her 8 year-old son corrected her and said, "Mom.  It's Tenley.  Tenderly is toilet paper."  (Yes.  There is an Italian brand of toilet paper called Tenderly.)
I thanked Lucia for her help and somehow it came out that she spoke English.  She said that she didn't speak it very well and that she was always nervous.  (Sound familiar?)  She was born in Australia and had lived there until she was seven and there was no one in this part of Italy to practice with.  I told her (in English) that I'd be back and she told me her hours and was as excited as I would have been if an Italian had stopped by my studio and told me they'd come back to visit and speak Italian with me.