Well my friends, that is exactly what has happened to me. My glorious, uber cool, had since I was 11, purple Schwinn mountain bike has been kidnapped, hijacked, fucking shanghaied. I am not sure what is worse: the fact that it was purloined outside of one of my favorite social gathering venues, that I just purchased a rockin' new helmet and bike lights, or that I thought it would be okay to leave it locked up overnight on the Founder's porch as I accepted a car ride home instead.
My buoyancy and naivete have been plundered, and left is a sad hopeless version of my former self. I expect this feeling of low morale to last only until the end of the week, but am afraid my trust in those around me will never be the same. No longer will I leave a door unlocked, or a window open. No longer will I trust a bike lock to do its job! CURSES you Schwinn stealing, morale blowing, panic evoking THEIF! I hope that as you ride my beloved bike down the streets of Grand Rapids, you go too fast down a brick paved street, hit a bump just right, and go flying- knocking your front teeth out as a result.
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