On Thursday, July 21st, I had to run a few errands, which included going to Elite Home Sales to discuss the newspaper I am doing for them – and stop at Fillmore Real Estate to go over changes on a brochure I am working on for one of their agents. So, in order to avoid taking a bus or walking – I hopped on my bike and headed toward my two meetings. After my meeting at Fillmore, my friend Lisa called me and invited me to lunch. So, knowing my bike was securely chained to a pole, I left it there, jumped in Lisa’s car – and figured I would pick it up later.

The next time I was able to get over there was yesterday, when I had to go back to Elite Home Sales to go over the final draft of the newspaper. After the meeting, I walked over to get my bike – only to discover that it was gone.

Surprisingly, I did not do the one thing I normally would have done – which is blow my top. Calmly, I simply accepted the fact that the bike was stolen and silently wished horrible things upon the creep that took it. While the fact that it is gone is because of the criminal that stole it – the truth is that I am partially to blame because I foolishly thought that a Kryptonite bicycle chain, who’s slogan is “Tough Locks For A Tough World” – would protect a bike here in the peaceful and crime-free borough of Brooklyn, New York.

Instead of being angry that my bike has been stolen, I am amazed. Sure I stole a few pieces of candy as a kid and maybe a Star Wars Action Figure or two – but I can’t fathom how people can just take other people’s property and be perfectly fine with doing so. When this slime stole my bike, who owned it, how much I paid for it, how badly I needed it – and what I was going to do without it – never even crossed his mind. All he cared about was taking someone else’s bike to make his own. Wow.

My friends suggested that I go looking for it and/or file a police report – but what is the point? For one thing, that bike has already been either re-painted, sold – or given to someone as a gift. And besides, our “diligent” police force here in the 61st and 63rd precincts would not even consider donating its precious manpower to such a “heinous” crime – so all my police report would do is occupy a file cabinet that is only opened when another police report of the same importance is placed next to mine.

Ironically, this is the sixth bike that has been stolen from me. The previous five all occurred when I was a child, which probably explains why I was not so shocked when this bike was taken. I am not sure if I will buy another bike again – because I do not feel like throwing money away once more – and I certainly will never trust another bike lock ever again. So I guess I will be forced to use my feet not for peddling – but for walking or running after a bus.

Did I mention how much I love living here?