The Story of the (un)Stolen Bike(s)
Two days ago (Tuesday for those who have trouble thinking back that far) I went to our Hausmeister to get a new light bulb, new vent filters, and to tell him that I was fairly certain someone had stolen my bike. I said "fairly certain" because I had checked the area around our apartment end several times over, as well as the bike cellar, but with no results. I was more baffled than upset, because how--tell me-- how does one person get TWO bikes stolen in five months? The first bike (yes, crappy, upside-down bike that I never ended up photographing, sorry guys) was noticed as missing during my mom's visit. Which was upsetting, because I never had the chance to even try and sell the stupid thing. Â35,- that I'll never ever get back.
With bike No.2, I was half upset, as mentioned, because of the number of bikes now stolen from me had doubled, and because I wouldn't get my Â20 deposit back from the Bike Man. Which would only be fair, but still. On the other hand, I regarded the bike being gone as one less thing I'd have to take care of before leaving the country. Mixed emotions, as you may be able to tell.
So, Hausmeister informed me of the following: 1) it's nothing new that bikes are stolen from the apartment area 2) sometimes the thieves will pull a bike into the bushes, cut off the lock, and then ride it away, and 3) sometimes the thieves will drive up in a car and just hoist the bike into the trunk and drive off. No consolation, no suggestions on what to do. It gave me a general feeling that calling the police would just end up being a waste of Â0,19. (I'd like to make a quick mention that the day before I had found out that yet ANOTHER one of my favorite bands, Mest, had disbanded. So I was already in an iffy mood) So I went to class on foot, which is no problem, told fellow group-workers that other than Mest being through and my second bike being stolen (they found that amusing, and I don't blame them), I was doing great.
After class I ended up talking to Hanane, Kathy, Andrew, and Anya, and told Hanane how there was nothing that could be done about the bike being stolen. She expressed her sympathy and we continue talking. Then I stop talking, and Anya said jokingly "Oh, my bike!" But there it was. My bike, with my Apt.# sticker (silly Hausmeister), and my lock, was across the alley from the University building. Just standing next to the wall like it had been there waiting for me. I was speechless, dumbfounded, surprised. Confused beyond all reason. The last time I had used and seen my bike was Wednesday. Friday and Saturday I went to Heidelberg, but used public transportation both days to get there and back to Landau. Sunday I didn't use it, nor Monday, because by then it had established itself as stolen. I had been racking my brain to remember what, exactly, I had done Thursday, but kept drawing a blank. A perfect blank, which is scary, but funny at the same time. I remember leaving the apartment and going to the library, but around 1 P.M., and I don't ride my bike to the library -- and besides, the bike was in the city center, which is twice as far. I have no receipts from Thursday, which means I didn't do any shopping of any kind. Unless someone played a very very cruel (aincidentallytly stupid trick, because who would drag a locked bike all the way to the city center just to make me sorry?) trick, or if something so terrible happened Thursday that I completely blocked it out of my mind, I've got memory issues. An entire day, gone, just like that. I'm still left in wonder about it today, as I write.
So my bike has been unstolen, the classmates informed (the one teasingly accused me of drinking too much Weinschorle, the other congratulated me and said "One bike in your garage is worth two in Landau"), and everyone else amused and probably as confused as I am.
The world has turned and left me here...(and taken my sanity with it)