Man, I used to use my bike to get around everywhere. She was blue. Shiny, sleek. A real lady. She cost me $125 US and was worth every Lincoln-headed penny. She wasn't only a looker, she was a real tough girl. We rode around the Plateau and up to Mile End every afternoon that I didn't have class. A good 2-hour ride, sometimes more! I took good care of that bike. Bought a 40$ bike lock, with a chain to go through the wheels and everything.
And then, one day, I strolled over to the fence by the dance studio where I always used to lock her up and she was gone! Just, gone. I swear everyone in the neighbourhood heard my heart drop to the pavement in that moment.
And you know what tears me up every time I think about this? I just have no idea who took my bike. No idea. I should be so lucky as Chris H., infamous victim of the Arcade Fire's basketball-thieving treachery.
Seriously, Arcade Fire. Win goes around to cities in the US just stealing basketballs from dudes at gyms now? I, living in the same city you guys call home, get my bike stolen by some random asshole? This is not acceptable. I am going out and getting a new bike right now, and next time you guys come back home, you'd better steal it. Don't make me start another rant on the interblogs...
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
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