stop stealing my bike

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

recently, my bike was stolen from a bedroom in my boyfriend's house. my friend caroline had her purse snatched off the back of her chair at High Dive last night. Jillian's North Face was taken the same way at a Lincoln Park bar last year. while lounging on the beach in South Africa, one man pulled a knife on me while his buddy stole my bag.

i know, i know, it's all just "stuff". mere "things" that can be replaced with minor hassle. they're silly events when compared to the other shit that goes down in this city. and south africa is a place of contradictions...white and black, rich and poor. it almost made sense why someone would feel justified in taking something that didn't belong to him there...almost.

unless my best friend or a family member is on their death bed and it required me to do so, i would never, ever, EVER take anything that didn't belong to me.

yeah...i know, i know. it's all connected to a heap of social problems (poverty, addiction, etc.) but that doesn't make me feel better. and that my friends, does not replace that cutest road bike to ever hit chicago streets.

this loss is too great to bear alone. please...wear black tomorrow to mourn the passing of my Scwhinn. you were fun while you lasted.

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