So, someone broke into our garage …
and stole two bikes.
I’m sure they justified it by saying “whoever has a garage with two kayaks and six bikes could afford to miss some of it.”
Except the kayaks are there because one of my roommates’ friends whose wife just left him for a guy she knew for one week took the kids, cleaned out the bank account, and brought a trailer to take everything she could grab from the house. He removed the rest of the big items until they can get to court and divide what’s left.
There are four of us roommates in this house, and we lend bikes constantly, so six bikes isn’t lot. As I don’t own a car, they are my ONLY form of independent transportation. My best friend, who rides a lot with me, just poured all of her spare cash into fitting her bike with clip-in pedals and a water reservoir so we can do things like 100-mile rides and bike camping in the middle of nowhere.
Ownership and property are funny things, and I know we put too much stock in them. But those bikes are not just money, but friendship, camaraderie, adventure, and - most importantly - my livelihood. Those two bikes are how I get to meetings, and work, and how I earn the very meagre living that I make as a freelancer. You just waltzed in and took that out from under me. I’ve almost never felt so violated and angry.
You, jackass. I can outride you on anything with two wheels. If I ever see you on one of those bikes you stole, I will take what’s mine, I will reclaim what I need to survive, and I will have no compunction or reservation.