Stolen Draft Lite Bike (French Quarter, Layfayette Square)
St. Philip at Chartres St.
It was the night of October 25th, a Friday, around 7pm, and I was going to a rehearsal for HAIR at Le Petit Theatre in the Quarter. I locked up my bike on a column in front of the restaurant Tableau, like every other evening, and disappeared into the theatre for the next three hours. Rehearsal ends, 10:30PM, I'm back out on the street, and I find, next to the trusty column which had previously held my bike fast to it, my mangled bike lock. I did the obligatory look-around-the-corner-just-to-make-sure-I-didn't-lock-it-up-somewhere-else-am-I-crazy thing. But the torn up lock was confirmation.
Sure, it was just a bike, just a material thing. But it was given to me by someone I love dearly, just before he moved to the other side of the country. So it was his.
And it was my transportation.
And yes, it was a pretty nice bike, so it probably was a fair assumption to you that the owner had money and therefore didn't need the bike, and perhaps could just buy another one...which is still pretty crusty of you...alas, I'm a waitress (I work at Capdeville by the way, maybe you know me, maybe you care enough about us over there to give a damn and tackle anyone you seeing riding my bike about the city, or maybe, like...throw a stick in the spokes...Or something...I would never do that...I would...I wouldn't...I mean, phht, who carries around a stick everywhere they go just in case they see their stolen bike and will have the wherewithal to aim and toss it perfectly into the spokes, launching the thief off my property and landing, mostly unharmed, but more importantly away from my bike, so that I could scoop it up and pedal away in an adrenaline throbbing cloud of sweet karma!...I've certainly never had that daydream four times a day every day since my bike was stolen)...so I'm a waitress is what I'm saying, and I work hard to make and save money.
You saw fit to steal my transportation. Well, the restaurant Tableau has cameras. So the manager was a lamb, and we hunkered down in front of the cameras that evening and found you picking away at my lock. Right there on the street. In front of the restaurant. At 9 PM on a Friday night. With people everywhere. And it took you AWHILE.
You got balls, my friend.
But I'd be a really sweet thing to have my bike back. If not, whaddaya say the rest of us (non bike thieves) all try a little harder to look out for each other? I'll certainly be doing a better job of that now. And shame on me for not looking out before.
Posting ID: 4162408793