How many swears am I allowed to put on here? Not many? Okay, then I’ll resort to this exclamation to portray my anger.
That’s right. Some asshole stole my bike last night. I was feeling pretty sick yesterday, so after my bike ride I was distracted enough that I forgot to lock Balto around the stairs like I usually do. Instead, I just left the lock wrapped around the bike.
This morning I was feeling much better, so I decided to continue the biking routine I started a couple weeks ago. See, I had wanted to see what was beyond the Tjapukai Park, and I took a really nice ride beyond all of these cane fields and farms and mountains, and eventually found this adorable pond with all these duckies and there were cockatoos flying around. It was right beneath the mountain, so I made it a routine to bike down there a couple times a week, to stop and sit at one of the benches by the pond, then come back. It’s a long ride, and a good work out, so I liked the plan. Tuesday mornings are the best time for me to do this, so I ate my breakfast, got all my biking gear on, and walked outside. I looked over the railing to say hello to Balto. He wasn’t there.
All that was left was my helmet, pathetically turned upside down on the ground.
I asked my neighbor if she’d seen anything, and she commented that she’d noticed Balto was gone this morning, and thought it was odd. So I knew he had been taken before 8 in the morning, and after 4 yesterday afternoon. I went to Deb, our landlord, and she told me she’d keep an eye out and recommended I go to the police station and report it. They’re right next door, so that was a quick walk. I put in the report, but the guy said not to get my hopes up. Apparently, another bike was stolen from the Beaches a few weeks ago. Turns out that bike belonged to my friend.
The thing is, the Beaches is a pretty safe place. My neighbor commented on how she leaves her car unlocked all the time, and her car sits right next to my bike. You see bikes off their chains all the time. I’ve never felt it was a risk, since the few other times I’ve forgotten to lock Balto up, he is always there in the morning. I usually trust everyone.
I spent an hour or so walking along the highway, hoping someone ditched Balto over the railing of the underpass or something. No such luck. So I went to class, and now I’m here on campus, playing spy and hoping the jerk rode him to campus and left him in one of the bike racks. I plan on beating him over the head with my laptop when I find him.
And another few things I noticed:
A. They didn’t take the helmet, which means they either have their own, or are risking getting pulled over by the cops, since helmets are required by law.
B. It was most likely night when they took it. Balto has no headlight on him to see at night. His bell is broken, so the thief wouldn’t be able to warn anyone he was there. Therefore, I’m hoping he crashed into a tree and is now in a full-body cast, rueing the night he took my bike.
All in all, the person who took Balto is a dumbass.
Unfortunately, Balto’s not at P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney. I know Nemo was there, but that’d be one hell of a ride down to Sydney.
I just want my bike back
So I wouldn’t tell people to completely distrust everyone, even though Balto was stolen. Both my neighbor and landlord offered to let me borrow their kids’ bikes, so most Aussies are nice and reliable. But be wary, I guess is what I’m saying.
I haven’t got many pics from the past two weeks, since things have been pretty low-key. But I do have a picture of my new friend, whom I plan on sicking on the person who stole my bike. Be warned.