By Traci Rork
Miss Informed
10.15.09
How many of us islanders have had our bicycles snatched by some degenerate never to be seen again? I'm willing to wager plenty. But, how many of us have actually had the pleasure of running into a drunken loser as he's leisurely cruising around town on your bright pink beach cruiser? Not enough as sadly, they're usually gone for good. But not always, and boy do I have a story for you!
I've had a few bikes stolen and have spent years searching for them, in the hopes of coming 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, we were able to mug that poor thug before he even knew what hit him!
A couple of weekends ago during the full moon, (which is when crazy shit always happens) my friend Courtney and I managed to rob a robber. That's right. This was not a premeditated act, nor one I would recommend in hindsight, but sometimes our carnal instincts can't be ignored once we've been wronged.
There was an army of bikes in front of my house Friday night as we made a brief pit stop between bars. We weren't planning on staying long, so none of the bikes were locked which is when bad things always happen.
Moments later we notice that Courtney's pink bike was missing from the pack. Cascading feelings of disbelief quickly turned to anger and despair, but we jumped in my car and took off to go catch a predator.
We made all the right turns at all the right times and lo and behold, we spotted the bicycle bandit swerving towards us in the darkness.
I honked the horn and from the safety of my car yelled that the cops are on the way and he should drop the bike and run. Courtney on the other hand, marched over to the idiot who was telling us that it was definitely his bike because his sunglasses were in the basket. Nice try wise guy.
Of course, not a single soul was nearby so it was two hell-raisers in heels against one wobbly drunk, but I've watched enough Court TV to know that hardly matters.
Luckily, he begrudgingly got off the bike and shamefully went on his way. He called us losers as Courtney proudly rode her bike back to my house with me driving slowly beside her in case he decided to bum rush her during our victory parade.
Thankfully we escaped unharmed, but it turns out we were not unarmed... At some point we had acquired an assault weapon that had apparently been left in the bike basket! So yeah, we now had a retractable baton like the one used to beat Nancy Kerrigan in our possession.
I've never felt more accomplished, relieved, and validated than when we returned home with that bike in tow. Not to mention the exuberence of retelling our story to the girls and showing off our new night stick.
While my dad and brother got a kick out of this story, my mom on the other hand didn't feel that my vigilantism warranted a celebration and that I should not be so proud of flirting with danger. I told her that she should be relieved knowing that not only am I a self-sufficient woman and literally a go-getter, but that I've also got Courtney in my corner, and she's the Queen of Clubs.
Just another weekend in Key Weird - you can't make this shit up...
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