The Saddest Story: The Belated Beloved Bike of Becca.
Check it out...someone came into MY house, under MY roof, onto MY staircase...and freakin' ripped it apart in order to steal my bike. It's not funny. This is serious. This means that someone has be
en patrolling my area, and new that my bike stays inside. That just freaks me out. I was absolutely livid when I realized my bike was gone.What hurts me the most was that my bike was like my baby. And in many ways was the pride of my life...because I dedicated a lot of time taking care of it, just like a mother with her own babe. I cared for the bike, I W-D fortyed it all the time! I disassembled it in order to paint it olive green (which took me like 2 days, holy crap! And I will add that I will never do that again), I installed a new chain (which was also a pretty arduous task), I installed a new seat, lights for the handles bars and below the seat (because I ride at night a lot of the times), etc. I mean, the bike it
self was cheap...but I worked on it so hard. The sweat of my brow!!!!!!Let me say this again...THE SWEAT OF MY FREAKIN BROW!!!
It's gone now, along with some of the nods of the staircase. But I miss the bike more. And I've shed my tears for my sweet cruiser-mobile. I'm also pisst (excuse my french), because no one in the freakin complex heard anything. Honestly...How do you not here someone walk in your house,
knocking boards down. It just doesn't add up. So, I immediately ensued a crime scene investigation and took picture with my T309 c.p.I am still running an investigation, and you will be happy to know that I have already
posted by Becca @ 6:16 PM
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