Member-only story
Someone Stole My Bike And Quite Frankly This Won’t Stand
A tale of scandal, treachery, and vengeance.
So my bike was stolen. I raged for days. I prostrated myself in the plaza and lamented wildly and rained down curses upon my offender till he was surely cringing in his bed.
My rage served as magnet to draw my bike into my general radius, for, immediately after filing the police report and denouncing my thief to the heavens, I prowled around campus inspecting every bike rack in righteous anger, when lo and behold, there he is lopsidedly parked outside the DSU.
I enter the scene, survey the premises, and there’s literally no one in the building except one poor guy who I rant to about the stolen bike and demand he disclose to me what he witnessed on the scene. He looked really terrified of me and I feel kind of bad. I forget I am scary sometimes.
After receiving wise counsel from this stranger, who I think just wanted me to go away, I decided to sit outside, in view of the bike, and wait until the offender emerged and gleefully tried to ride off with their plunder.
I was very much looking forward to this encounter. I had it all planned out. I had a mental image of how embarrassed and stupid he would feel, and I would somehow rope him in to being my indentured servant to repay…
