That's right. And it's all my fault.For those of you who haven't been keeping up with my adventures, Brown Lightning is my bike, the love of my life. You can read all about her and my excitement in bringing her home from a previous post found here.
The heartbreak began this past Friday, October 3rd, when I decided that I would have a few more drinks than I needed, preventing me from hopping on my saddle and pedaling home. I left li'l Lightning locked up outside, overnight - my first and most fatal mistake. Saturday I went for a run to retrieve her, and I was dismayed to find that someone decided they needed her back tire more than I did. As I had no dollars or CTA card on me, and was 4 miles from home, I had no choice but to turn and leave her again, running home in a sea of anger with waves of sadness washing over me in thoughts that people could be so cruel.
Sunday came and went, and I didn't have my friend take me to Brownie because the bike shop was closed and I thought, what else could they take from her that they haven't already? How sorely shocked I would become come Tuesday - after the torrential downpour Monday prevented me from venturing into the monsoon - upon discovering that my super sweet seat was indeed removable. AHHHHH!
So, here I am Tuesday evening, wandering the streets with a raped and broken bicycle slung over my right shoulder, frown painted on my face. I can't take the bus to the bike shop because the driver informed me that only one of her bike locks work, so I sit in hopes that another will soon come my way. Unfortunately, the CTA is as unreliable as an alcoholic aunt who promised you she'd pick you up from the train station in the middle of nowhere on a cold, dark night, and while there were 3 buses in the other direction, I saw none coming my way in the distant horizon. Bummer. I called a cab, specifically requesting "one of those van cabs."
This is where the lecturing begins, in three parts. My cab pulls up. We fold the back seat over and twist and turn Brown Lightning so she fits without getting crumpled by the back hatch. My driver tells me I need to lock up my bike. Well, I did, sir. He then tells me I can't use none of them cheap locks as them cheap locks are easy to break through. I need an expensive one. I have an expensive lock, sir, but it didn't cover my back tire. Well, there's your problem right there. Yes, I know. And he proceeds to tell me about the bike thieves and how no good people aren't honest and they take anything that can help them advance in this world, even if it isn't theirs. Thanks. This is not what I want to hear right now, and I'm relieved as we pull up to the destination.
Second part lecturing: the cool bike man who set me up with Brown Lightning saw my sorrowful look and said, "Oh no! What happened?" and I said, "They took my back tire and my super sweet seat!" I explained the situation of the unattended overnight stay in Lincoln Park and he said that I can't leave my bike out overnight, anywhere, that the bike gangs rove the streets at night looking for whatever part they can take. Apparently this problem has only worsened with each penny addition to the gas price. He then apologized and said that I probably didn't want to be lectured at a time like this. He was right. Then he told me he could fix her within 30 minutes, but it was going to be $60! Bummer! I had some place to be, so I couldn't stay and told him I'd be back today. Then the proprietor of the shop came out and said that he was going to give me a strong cable when I came back so this wouldn't happen again. I thanked him and was ready to go on my way when the cool bike man told me he had two tickets to this show at a theater across the street and asked me if I wanted to go. My mind was elsewhere and so I said, "sure" not thinking that he was asking me if I wanted to go with him, but rather if I wanted the tickets. I'm still not sure what he meant by asking, and I really hope that it's the latter. I mean, he's a really nice guy, but he's in his late 40s, and errrr... yeah, no. So, that might place me in a really awkward situation tonight as I stumble and stammer my rejection.
Alright, part three. I leave the bike shop, walk towards the bus stop, am on the phone with my Mom, see the bus zoom by, tell my Mom bye, run to catch the bus. On the bus I recognize the driver as the same one who couldn't accommodate for me and Brown Lightning costing me a $10 cab fare. She asked me what happened and I told her the whole story. Again, she responded that I couldn't leave my bike out overnight, even if it was locked up. I explained that I had been drinking and didn't feel comfortable riding by bike at 4 in the morning. Then she said something I really liked and will take to heart from now one, Cowboys never leave their horses, they walk 'em home.
Oooh, good one lady. I like that. So, from now on, when the whiskey has a hold of my head so much so that I can't ride home to bed, I'm walkin' that bitch back rather than leavin' her on the rack. Thanks, Ms. Bus Driver!! Lesson learned. Cost of lesson $70 (including cab fare). Shiiiiieet!
