7.19.2005
punk bitch bicycle thieves
yesterday, my 1999, kawasaki green, 21-inch, often-crashed, sporadically maintained specialized rockhopper a1 comp mountain bike was jacked from in front of the chester creek cafe.
i've been coveting newer rides lately, but still...i loved that green bike, and i'd recently committed myself to riding it till it couldn't be ridden anymore. we'd been through a lot together: a separated shoulder; some hot bike-on-tree action; a few drunken rides up the hill after good nights at various bars.
it's the third bike i've had stolen in duluth. no, i hadn't locked it up. yes, that makes me an idiot. but like one of the c.c. cafe servers said, "geez. it's not like you'd set it outside the cozy." i'd fallen into a false sense of security, because i'd never locked it up at the cafe, and, until yesterday, it had never been stolen.
smart, eh? trusting people and being lazy are both stupid.
i have a bleeding heart, and i neither prefer nor condone violence, but if i see someone riding a big lime green bike with reflective "G" stickers on the front and back of the frame, i just might beat the piss out of them. if nothing else, i'll knock them down with vigor, and not care if they have to walk home.
i hope there's a special ring of hell reserved for bicycle thieves. they're punk bitches, every one.