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So, one of the things I didn't post about here in the last week or two has been my bicycle situation. This is strange, since I've literally told everyone I've met.
Basically, I was the victim of a crime. A horrible, low, dirty crime. I live up more stairs than it is polite to invite visitors up, so I chained my mountain bike up to some pretty solid railings not far from my house, on my way to university. Perhaps it was inevitable, but one day I went to pick up my trusty steed and it was no longer there. The police don't seem terribly troubled, and I know she wasn't exactly worth much, but I still felt violated and pedestrianized.
( Read on for tales of woe... )
Basically, I was the victim of a crime. A horrible, low, dirty crime. I live up more stairs than it is polite to invite visitors up, so I chained my mountain bike up to some pretty solid railings not far from my house, on my way to university. Perhaps it was inevitable, but one day I went to pick up my trusty steed and it was no longer there. The police don't seem terribly troubled, and I know she wasn't exactly worth much, but I still felt violated and pedestrianized.
( Read on for tales of woe... )