Owning a bicycle in New York City.

Gone in 60 days.

It had been just under a year living in the Brooklyn borough, and I was anxiously awaiting my first spring in NYC. I figured it was time I find a decent bicycle!

One evening, in early March, I find myself chatting with a friend about my bike preferences as we tear down a couple slices at our local pizza joint. I was looking for a care-free, low-maintenance, commuter bike. Some local musician overheard us that night, claiming he had just the bike for me. I pop over to his place on foot, give it a few test rides, and buy it at a steal of a price.

After several weeks of getting locks, a bell, lights, etc, I was ready to move this bike out of my small apartment. I was planning to store it safely in the basement of our building. Only a few tenants, our landlord, and the maintenance guy had access to this area (and only by key).

I go to the basement, see other bikes there, all unlocked. There is one floor pipe in the corner where I can just U-lock the front tire of the bike. Maybe not ideal, but it seemed like a secure enough spot.

It’s now May. A few days go by, and I’m ready to hit that pizza joint again. I head to the basement, see the u-lock is intact against the pipe, but the bike, itself, is gone.

The Chase Begins.

1. I file a police report.
2. They give me a detective to work with.
3. He kinda helps (but not like in the way they would on CSI).
4. I have a look on craigslist.
5. I get lucky after several searches.

The bike is there. He took a photo of my bike within our building, and posted it on Craigslist. Mother ****** ****!!! Are you for real right now.

My adrenaline is up for the next 48 hours. I try everything from fake e-mails, to friends reaching out anonymously. No response. Nothing for a while. The most that happened was me wrongly accusing someone with a similar bike model in Williamsburg.

At this point, I’m already beginning to patch up an older bike I had. The loss wasn’t all bad since it helped me learn how to properly clean chains, adjust brakes, etc. I did a rough paint job, and this old bike was as good as new.

The Last Mile.

That morning, I think.. let me just see if there are any new posts, if not, I can finally wash my hands of this whole situation. There’s a new one!? Of course. As of 8 a.m. today. WTF!! I still have a shot! But now the bike has made it’s made its way to Manhattan.

Lucky for me, the thief gets back to one of the emails I set up. The detective and I try to get them to meet at the same pizza joint where this all started (probably a bad move… too close to home). Of course, the thief never shows up. Maybe they got suspicious, maybe they found a better buyer, who knows. The thief connects with one other email I sent out, but we never hear back again to arrange a time or place to meet. Mind you, this whole time they never give a name or cell phone number out.

Deflated, yet again, I’ve nearly given up. I almost wished they had never posted anything. The next day, every single post, new and old, are all taken down from the site. I finally decide to throw in the towel.

Reunited by Fate.

Now it’s mid May, and I had weekend plans for NYC Design Week in the West Village. Meanwhile, my girlfriend and her mother are working at an outdoor flea nearby. We wrap up the day together and start walking back to my car to head home. That’s when I see Tita (my bike’s name).

I stop a blonde girl about to bike off on a bike that I’m 99% sure is mine. She looked too nice to be the culprit, so I had a feeling she bought it from the thief. I go up to her and play it cool.

“EXCUSE ME! HEY! I used to have a bike like that! I love that brand! Where did you find it? Did you use Craigslist? It looks really nice.”

Luckily, she stuck around long enough for me to show her the posts I had and explain that she bought a stolen bike that once belonged to me. She was the kindest Australian girl, and had just moved to NYC a few days ago. She felt too weird holding onto the bike after that, so we made a fair arrangement, and I put it in my car ASAP.

She gave me a decent profile description. It was likely a tenant in our building, some neighborhood delinquent, or maybe the Aussie girl actually took it. Hmm… questionable. Either way this was a bicycle love story I had to share.

When you lose something, you must move forward and rebuild. Maybe it was that mindset that kept bringing my bike back to me.

A Note to the Thief:

Dude. Why do you go through the dangerous hassle of breaking into a building, using tools, posting ads, replacing the tire, running around looking for a quick sale? You probably only made $100 after all that. Why not work, with some level of integrity, for 10 hours at a bike shop? You’re obviously pretty good at this. Why not do something good for the community instead of taking from it? Do you feel good about this life of yours, really? How long did that $100 last you? You know, Tita and I talked too, and she really didn’t like you riding her like that. Also, If I see you (I know what you look like) anywhere near our building, I swear... I’m gonna invite you in for coffee and help you learn how to make some legal cash, you know, instead of slamming the bike frame over your skull.

Thanks for reading.

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