A week ago I decided that I was going to go out and get a new bike. I’ve always wanted a real high quality bike, with multiple gears and a comfortable seat. So I went to my local bike shop, talked to the sales associate and picked out a beautiful new Schwinn bicycle. It was expensive but my intention was to have this bike for many years.
I immediately took it for a ride down the Hudson river on a beautiful afternoon. The pedaling was perfect, and when I finally went home I was in such a good mood. I was making plans to ride my bike all over the city this summer, and rely less on public transportation.
I went on Amazon and ordered a brand new lock and helmet, the helmet in orange to go with my blue bike so I could have Mets colors.
My new helmet and lock finally came in the mail last night, and I was so excited to take my bike out for a long ride today. My plan was to ride down to Lincoln Center and catch a movie. I rode through central park, and came down 72nd street and chained my bike up on 69th and Broadway, then went into a diner for a quick lunch.
After leaving the restaurant, I thought I would go check on my bike before heading into the cinema. But it wasn’t there. I thought maybe I had mistaken where I left it, paced the street back and forth hoping I was just missing it, but I wasn’t. Some bastard had taken my bicycle, that I worked for and felt so happy and thrilled about it. In just matter of minutes, some crook took it away without thinking twice.
I went to the police station, where they told me to go back to where I left it and call the police. I did so, and after a few hours the cops never showed up. So I went home and registered my bike in a few databases for bike theft, but I know I’ll never see it again.
I take some blame for leaving a brand new bicycle and locking it with just a wire lock. But still, thieves disgust me. They really do.
Whoever out there took my bike, I hope you take it home and give it to your son. I hope he’s thrilled and over the moon to have a shiny, new, blue bicycle. I pray this weekend he takes it out, shows it off to his friends and brags about the bike his dad got for him. I hope he parks it outside a deli and runs in for a soda, and then when he comes out it’s gone, and he feels that sense of shock and sadness when some asshole takes away what’s yours, and that because of it he grows up to never be a cold son of a bitch like you.