It’s Halloween. I’m at home feeling sick. Laying around was only making me feel more sick and I really wanted to be able to volunteer at the mens’ shelter tonight, so I take a bike ride to get some fresh air. The ride through Winnemac Park was just beautiful with the autumn leaves.
I ride over to the nearby Sulzer Library to get some photo books as I’m thinking about reviving my photography by shooting again with my DSLR. I lock up my bike in front of the busy library. A couple hours later I come out and my bike is gone! I’m shocked. Plus I’m already a little dizzy and confused from feeling sick (side point: H1N1? Eep).
I look up and down the block, but I totally remember locking my bike to the bike rack. I tell one of the guys sitting in front of the library that my bike got stolen. He said, “I didn’t steal it.” Yeah, no duh. You are sitting here with no bicycle. Sheesh.
But then… then… there was my bike lock laying on the ground by the bike rack. Cut. They left the bike lock behind? What balls. In a way i was actually grateful, because it gave me real final evidence that my bike was stolen. It actually felt better to have that lock in my hand. Before i had nothing. At least now I have this final closure.
Then here’s where a couple interesting things come into play.
A nice older biker guy pulls up to lock his bike among all the other bikes there, and i warn him. At this point I just really need to let out what happened. This fellow listens to me and is very understanding. He also lost a bike a couple years ago. He shares with me how it’s hard to lose a bicycle, even if it wasn’t worth that much. We talk for a bit and I thank him very much for helping me, that he was a Godsend. Literally. I often find when I’m in the dumps, that there’s someone that comes along either a stranger or someone I know that brightens my day. Little did I know I would be getting both in this situation.
I walk (not bike) home. I thank God that at least this happened within walking distance of my apartment (just about five blocks). I’m getting hungry, for some odd reason I feel like Subway. There’s all these nice food places on Lincoln Avenue, but I choose Subway. I walk in, get my meatball sub, and as I’m about to leave, who’s outside the door? A friend I haven’t seen in over a year! My friend who lived above me for six years.
It was really nice running into him. We eat our lunch together and he was also very consoling about my bike loss, and he also agreed with me that this is a good lesson to not hold onto things too tightly.
All-in-all with this bike loss, I’m happy God brought in two people right away to help me. Tomorrow is a blog post about my submission to chicago.stolenbike.org.