i can haz mah bike back? Plz?

My bike was stolen yesterday.  (*ETA: THIS is what she looked like)

From outside my office while I was in there for about 3 minutes. I parked it in front of the window so I could see it.  Had I planned on being there longer than just a little while, I would have brought it in with me (and I had a fleeting thought that I should today, but blew it off. One day I will learn to listen to even the smallest voice/instinct.)

I was joking with H while we walked to the door – she was off to get her lunch, I was off for home to do more painting. I made a remark that I parked in front of the window so we could see someone if they stole my bike. As we crossed the threshold of the front door, she looked to her right and said “What bike?” And in those few seconds I realized that it wasn’t a very funny joke after all.

H hung with me as I made a beeline for the church behind our building; we saw a couple of teenagers a few hundred feet away, both on bikes, one of which bore a striking resemblance to mine.  We yelled at them to stop, but of course, they rode faster and made it through the treeline and into the apartment complexes next to the church.  H called the police as we chased them…on foot.

My good Samaritan came in the form of a workin’ man on his lunch break eating lunch in the shade in his big white diesel Chevy. He saw them go by and offered to take us around the apartment complex to check things out until the police showed up.  (Sure is nice to get proof that there are still decent people in the world, isn’t it?  Even though he at first thought I was mentally challenged, walking around in a bike helmet with no bike! LOL).

Long story shorter, they had 3 police officers walking/driving around, notified all of the apartment managers, talked to maintenance and checked all the dumpsters. No bike.  H and I decided that every teenager was a suspect, especially those in their apartments who peeked through the curtains.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t just go storming into every building, demanding answers (tho, for a minute, we did feel a little Cagney & Lacey), so we glared and walked on by. 🙂

We met back up with the officer who took the call and chatted with him for a few minutes.  He wanted some additional details: make, model, serial number.  Of course, I had no clue on any of those, so I reached for my (new i)Phone to call Mike and it wasn’t there. H immediately called it and I could not hear it ring… No answer.  Oddly, the loss of my phone was what got me panicked; I was merely pissed about my bike. She called again, and lo and behold the guy in the truck answered – I dropped it in his truck while we were driving around!! Seriously, good samaritan, eh?!

H gave me a ride home where I forwarded the information about my bike to the officer.  Both H and my dad went back through the apartment complexes today, but no luck.  It’s possible they’ll find it dumped off somewhere, but if anyone who knows even the littlest about bikes finds it, it won’t be around long.

I’m not sure what the kid was thinking when he took my bike; whether he was planning on selling it because he needed money for food or if he was just some little piece of shit who needs to be smacked up side the head, or something in between, but I’m pretty annoyed.  I hope he has parents who wonder where the hell he found a new bike; I hope he has someone in his life to set him straight, but I doubt it. The apartment complexes behind my office (there are 3 all connected) are not known as the best places to live; generally low income (oh, and I guess there was a murder back there a couple of months ago!! ) and a fair combination of living off the state and working hard to make it.  I hope his parent(s) are the hard working, honest kind, but I’m not holding my breath.