By Traci Rork
Miss Informed
10.15.09
How many of you have had your bicycles snatched by some drunken degenerate never to be seen again? I'm willing to wager -- plenty. But how many of you have actually had the pleasure of running into that degenerate as he's leisurely cruising around town on your bright pink bicycle? Not enough sadly, and they're usually gone for good ... but not always.
I've had a few bikes snatched from my possession and spent years searching for them, hoping to come face to face with the culprits who complicated my life. While I know that karma catches up with everyone sooner or later, I must say that I'm a big fan of sooner, and after a recent altercation with a bike thief, you'll surely understand why.
Not only does it get your blood pumping and your adrenaline rushing, but catching someone in the act of ripping you off also gives you super-hero confidence -- which isn't always a good thing. But luckily in our case, after a fury of screams from horn honking hell raisers in high heels ... that poor thug was defeated before he even knew what hit him!
That's right. A couple of weekends ago during the full moon, my friend Courtney and I managed to rob a robber. This was not a premeditated act, nor one I recommend in hindsight. It simply comes down to cause and effect and how sometimes our carnal instincts can't be ignored once we've been blatantly wronged.
So here's how it happened...There was an army of bikes in front of my house Friday night as we made a brief pit stop in between bars. Since our posse wasn't planning on staying long, none of the bikes were locked and as you can imagine, that's when bad things happened.
Sure enough, we came outside moments later to find Courtney's bike missing from the pack. Cascading feelings of being violated quickly turned to anger and despair, and we quickly got in the car to go catch the predator.
I know that the more time that passes, the less likely it is that we'll be getting the bike back and exacting our revenge. But that night we turned onto all the right streets at all the right times and lo and behold, we spotted the bike bandit swerving toward us in the darkness. You can't imagine the anger and neither could he.
I honked the horn, rolled down my window and from the safety of my car yelled that the cops are on the way and he should run. Courtney on the other hand, marched over to the idiot as he was telling us that it was definitely his bike because his sunglasses were in the basket. Nice try wise guy.
Of course as this was all happening, not a single soul walked by and even though it was two against one, I've watched enough Court TV to know that hardly matters.
Regardless, after more horn honking, yelling and insults were thrown at the drunken thief, he begrudgingly got off the hot pink bike and shamefully went on his way. He called us losers as he walked away cloaked in irony, and Courtney proudly rode her bike home with me driving slowly next to her, in the hopes he wouldn't bum rush her and try to take it back.
He didn't and thankfully we escaped unharmed ... and go figure, with an assault weapon he left in the bike basket! It seems for some reason, the thug needed a retractable baton like the one used to beat Nancy Kerrigan back in the day. Good thing he was either too drunk to remember he had it, or he sized up the competition and was scared of a couple of dress-wearing divas.
Whatever the case, we were home safe and armed in case some other moron wanted a piece of action.
While my dad and brother got a kick out of this story, my mom on the other hand believes that my vigilantism should not be celebrated and that I should not be so proud of flirting with danger. I told her she should be relieved knowing that not only am I a self-sufficient woman, I'm also friends with Courtney, the no-nonsense Queen of Clubs, and thus our lives are not in jeopardy ... all that often.
Besides, I've never felt more accomplished, more relieved, more validated than when we returned home with that bike In tow. Not to mention the joy of retelling our crazy story to the girls who were just as shocked to see us marching back home with the stolen bike and some sort of night stick.
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" and that's especially true on a full moon!
To further inform Miss Informed, e-mail trork@ keysnews.com, and to catch up on previous ramblings, visit tracirork.blogspot.com.
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