When I was in Atlanta recently, I was sitting in traffic in the backseat of a friend's car. I happened to look over and see an older guy patiently idling a super sweet, well-maintained, tricked-out motorcycle. I recognized the make on the shiny beast simply because another friend's husband drooled over that particular kind for years before he finally bought one.
So I said, "Hey! That's a Harley Davidson Heritage Softtail!"
I said this aloud for the benefit of my carmates, but I didn't turn my head away from the window, not realizing that I was blatantly staring directly at the guy on the bike, and he was staring back.
Evidently he could read lips, because he flashed me a huge smile and a thumbs up.
And evidently I could read lips, too, because I saw him mouth, "That's right!"