My fault, my fault I know. Left my Trek outside Starbucks, up from St Martin's In The Fields when I went to the National Gallery last Friday. An insane weekend meant I couldn't go back to get it till this morning, as I approached I stopped myself from getting my keys ready. "If you do that you're tempting fate and it'll be nicked. "
Hurrah!
It was still there, I was so pleased, then as I wheeled it from the stand I realised some chuffing knobber had booted the back wheel in. This is a very public place, highly visible but still out of the way. Not possibly in anyone's way, locked to the stand.
What pleasure would they get from that? Brick Lane bikes specialse in fixies so they only have 700 wheels, Daycocks are replacing it for £70 so I have to schlep down Bethnal Green again this afternoon.
I have alerted Interpol, The Foreign Legion and The Womens' Institute, but I would have paid seventy notes just to catch the slack-jawed goggle-eyed mouth-breathing sofa crevice fondlers in the act.
If anyone says I shouldn't have left it so long I shall burst into tears.
Nicking it, I could understand, and I don't anthropomorphise my bike but why would they do that to her?