An Open Letter to Whomever Stole My Bike
Thank you for taking my bike, either this morning or last night (I assume). I’ve been almost embarrassed to ride the thing for some time now. Anyone who knows me knows I’m a man of culture, style, and grace, and that bike would never have been confused with any of those. By virtue of your selfless selfishness, I sit here unhindered in that regard. You are probably a saint now.
I also have the opportunity to gain some weight I’ve been missing since I started commuting to work on my bike. Over the last few months, my pants have fit a little more loosely, shirts lay across my midsection a bit more evenly. I felt a growing tension and unease at the prospect of replacing large parts of my small wardrobe with nicer, newer threads that thinner, healthier people might wear. You’ve saved me this expense, which has already amounted to over $100.
I thought I might give you a few tips for getting the most out of your new wheels.
- That squeaking you hear periodically is one or both of the rear brake pads brushing against the rear wheel, which is misaligned due a relatively high-velocity impact on a curb some weeks ago.
- Yes, those grips will start hurting your hands after a while. That’s the bike you get for $63 from Wal-Mart (though, of course, since you stole it, you probably don’t know that).
- If you’re planning to steal anything else, consider getting a rack. I’ve been backpacking my changes of clothes and lunches, and there’s not much more you can put in most backpacks. You probably don’t carry changes of clothes or lunches, necessarily, but children’s toys and freshly harvested organs will fit a rack better anyway.
- Most importantly, try to stay away from hills. Of any sort. You see, even though I purchased and installed new brakes a few weeks ago, I either misinstalled them or they’re crap, or both, and so they’re already a bit worn. Take it easy. You probably know this by now, though; perhaps if I’d had some forewarning, I’d have recommended against stealing my bike for this practical, rather than some other moral, reason.
Please enjoy my bike. I’ve gotten all of my $75 (including those brakes) out of it, I think. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you to walk into my yard, into my garage, and take it. More importantly, I thought about you when I heard all those sirens this morning, and wondered if they may have harkened your speeding collision with a church bus or garbage truck at the bottom of a hill. Before you ask: no, unfortunately, I don’t have any bandages or insurance cards in the garage.
Cheers.
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