May all your bacon burn and other curses...

Some jerk stole my bike the other day. Or night. Sometime between 5:40 pm and 10:15 am. Stole it from under the stairs that lead up to our apartment. Just my bike, not Michael's. Jerk.

My bike was not worth much. I found it by a dumpster, unlocked with old, flat tyres and a dry chain. We nursed it back to rideability. It was a twitchy thing - just the thought of turning seemed to make the handlebars and then the front wheel start to turn... 

But it became my bike. And I enjoyed riding it, even if the handlebars were slightly twisted thanks to a fall and laziness on my part (I never fixed them properly fixed them). There was also the issue of the brakes not working when wet. Damp. In the presence of a few drops of water. Otherwise, if I applied them too quickly I felt I might be thrown over the handlebars... Funtimes.

And no. I never rode it through snow. And riding over ice? Hell no. Unless it was a tiny stretch, no bigger than a puddle. And then I'd often have my feet off the pedals... not that my boots were any surer than the tyres.

Because of the nature of my bike, I decided I wasn't going to be too put-out if it was stolen in the last few weeks of our time here. But I was wrong. Very wrong. I'd had a rough night (Jimmy had a fever, and even though it was going down, I still didn't sleep well - it's a thing that happens when Jimmy is sick), and was late for work by necessity and it was gone. No bike.

A crazy idea went through my head: did I leave my bike at work? I had been doing it a bit because rain and the issue with the breaks. But no, I remembered riding it home and thinking that maybe I should lock the wheels, but hadn't. Naturally, I started kicking myself for not doing so before realizing that if someone really wanted by bike, the bike would not have stopped them.

So with that, and a picture of Jimmy and my old bike, I curse the jerk who stole my bike:

Could you have waited another two weeks? I want my bike back! 
Failing that: may the twisted handlebars bug you, may the rear tyre go flat often, and may the brakes fail. 
On a downhill section. 
In the wet. 
Because they will. 
Enjoy...
Not.

And may all your bacon burn.