It all started on Tuesday, August 3rd. I left work at 4:30, eager to ride my bike to Weight Watchers and then get home to my family. As I headed for the bike rack, I noticed that something was missing. You guessed it: my bike. SOMEONE STOLE MY BIKE!!! In the middle of the day, no less. I was so mad I literally stomped over to the security office to report it missing. They said that they would file a report with Moorhead PD. I felt pretty violated.
After my meeting, I walked home, and when I got to the driveway, Craig asked me where my bike was. When I told him the story, he looked at me and said, "I KNEW you wouldn't lock your bike up correctly". That comment was just enough to send me over the edge. I went from mad to steaming mad.
Days go by. Friday morning, I wake up feeling like someone had stabbed me in the chest. I went to work anyway, figuring that it was Friday and soon, I'd be able to rest. At 9am, my two bosses lectured me about taking care of myself, while shoving me out the door with commands to go to the doctor. If I wouldn't have acquiesced, I think President Edna herself would have handcuffed me and taken me in. Anyway, I did as told and was diagnosed with bronchitis. I left the clinic with intentions to sleep the rest of the day away.
Ten minutes after I returned from the clinic, the office calls. "So much for rest", I thought. But it turned out to be good news: my bike had been recovered! A detective with the Fargo Police Department found my treasured Trek 3400 in Fargo at a pawn shop. The men who cut the lock (yes, cut the lock, Craig) were arrested on felony charges due to the value of the bike. It turned out that the morons had stolen a total of 14 bikes all over the city, and were pawning them for drug money. The best part? Craig finally believed that it wasn't my fault. Sheesh. I wonder if I'll always have to get the police involved to prove myself?
As I write this, my bike is safely stowed in our garage. Until I can get a U-lock, that's where it will stay. I'm not taking any more chances.