Monday, March 4, 2013

What Happened to my Trike?


Yesterday, I rode to the thrift shops, looking for a laundry hamper, a toaster, an air popcorn popper, white shirts, a trash basket for under the desk, etc.  I found the cutest rain boots, black and white, (my colors!) with little paw prints on them, for walking in the dewy grass at the park every morning.  We found everything I needed and by the time I got what I wanted (those boots!), including some food and toilet paper... it added up to about $80.  A successful day, I thought.  It's rare that I fine EVERYTHING on my list.

Annie wanted McDonald's french fries and it was right down the street.  16th and Mission is considered a "seedy" neighborhood, so I was thrilled when the janitor in McDonald's allowed me to bring my trike into the store and park it near the door.  I would have had to unload all the stuff piled high in the basket and carried it inside if I locked the bike outside the store.  I thought it would be safer inside the store where I could keep an eye on it, even tho I couldn't lock it up to anything, rather than risk not being able to see the bike outside, while standing in a long line.  I KNOW my trike is a target, simply because 3 wheelers are an oddity, expensive, and coveted by so many, including the homeless, because it's so damn handy, and the basket can hold so much.  And I was surrounded by the homeless. 

I kept my eye on the bike, and watched a guy that seemed to be eying it too much for my liking.  But he left the store.  It was still there when I finally stepped up to the counter.  I ordered a number 2 meal, and paid.

All of 2 minutes, IF that long.  And he had to have had help, because the bike wouldn't go thru one door - someone would have to hold open the other door, or else it would have made a racket trying to get it out by himself. 

The point is - I ALWAYS lock it up when it's outside.  But in this neighborhood, I consciously made a decision to not lock it up outside because it would be out of my sight for the 15 to 20 minute long wait in line before getting to the counter. 

When I saw it was gone, I stumbled my way outside and yelled, "Someone stole my trike".

Think about that for a minute....

A gray haired, overweight, stumbling ADULT woman yelling about her TRIKE?...

I cannot run, or even walk fast.  

I'm sure most people probably heard "bike" instead of "trike", and there were tons of bikes around.  Absolutely no one even looked at me, except with "crazy lady alert" eyes.  Everyone averted their eyes, and didn't understand English, or pretended not to understand.  Or they were stoned, or drunk, with the glazed look that just slides right by you. Lots of those people and the sidewalks were very crowded. 

I have this odd feeling of betraying my bike.  Is it okay?  Is it being treated right?  Is it hurt, and does it know that I'm looking for it?

I have another post started about what is going on in my head, and a semi-plan for all those who want to help, but I want to go to the library to print out a Stolen Trike poster and take them down to the Mission and hang them up everywhere.

Tomorrow I have a full body MRI, and was freaking out about that until my son just reminded me of what helped last time - these weird little wedge things, that I had forgotten about.

Off to the library.

Thank you - for all the offers of help.  Like I said on Facebook... it is very humbling and we all know humble is not my style.  :-)

I won't make any decisions for at least a week.  I'd liked to try CraigsList, and Freecycle, and seeing what the cops can do, etc.  I wonder if I should offer a small reward.... the druggies might respond to that...



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