The Bicycle Thief

I’ve really been slacking on this whole blogging thing lately. Every now and then, it feels like my life is better as my own, no sharing necessary. It’s nice to be able to keep things close to the vest, though frankly, things have been a bit boring.

Let’s see:

I spent last Sunday running up and down Main Street like a crazy person during Second Sunday in OTR. After taking hundreds of pictures, chatting up vendors and shop owners, and trying to eat as much as possible (a favorite pastime), I was sweaty and exhausted.

Then I had a meeting.

I’m working on another magazine project, and we met at a cafe to discuss the mock-up I’d created and a bunch of other logistical issues. I was pleased to discover that I know stuff! Have you ever been surprised/impressed at how much you know concerning a particular issue or skill? I’m really getting into this custom publishing thing…

After the meeting, I walked outside to hop on my bike and finally go home, and my bike was…gone. The cable lock was still there, dangling innocently from the meter. The combination was fully locked, yet no bike in sight.

I was pissed.

The bike wasn’t one of those cutesy riding-around-in-a-full-skirt-with-a-basket-of-flowers-while-the-Sartorialist-takes-your-picture deals, either. It was a full-on Schwinn man’s mountain bike, all rough and tough and perfect for riding around the ‘hood.

I walked my tired self home, abandoned bike lock in hand, ready to start swingin’ and take out whoever might’ve taken my bike.  Trust, I was ready to do serious damage to somebody’s cranium. Now I just feel silly for not locking it more securely, though that still doesn’t give anyone the right to steal. Lesson learned.

For my fellow ride or die biznitches, here’s how you should lock your bike:

The more you know *sweeps arm in rainbow motion*