Someone stole my bike.
Let me give you my bike history:
Freshman year college: I had a bike. It was destroyed because it sat outside the Palo Verde East Dormitory. This did not surprise me and I really did not care.
Sophomore year: Bikeless year. I was using my roommate’s bike and I as a rode home after a night of debauchery I was hit by a car. There I was…half under a mini van on Apache Boulevard…yet still on the bike, foot on the pedals, just lying there under the mini van. I paid $70 to get the bike fixed.
I get new bike sometime…not sure when.
Senior Year: hippies stole my bike. This is why I have a small hatred for hippies. You see, my friend and I had the same bike. I had my bike at her place. I went to retrieve it and it was missing and the damneded hippies tried to say my friend’s mangled bike was mine. NO. My friend was hit by a car on that bike and it was mangled beyond recognition. Hence – I knew it was not my bike. Stinkin’ thieving hippies.
The Huffy: This is my pal. I actually love her but she is a shitty bike. She has seen me through it all. But she is lame. I actually toted her from Phoenix to Chicago. Yes, I toted an $80 bike 1800 miles. Stop laughing. I still have her – but she is rusted and icky.
Bought new bike 2 MONTHS ago and it has come to my attention that it has been stolen sometime this week. I am pissed.
I have posted a sign in the bike area asking for it to be returned.
PISSED.
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