That thing in my socks? It’s my heart (Comments: 2)
Author: Jason Crane
Date: 4 August, 2007
Category: Road Stories
My sister and I went to see The Bourne Ultimatum tonight. She drove, I rode my bike the 20 minutes from my house to the Regal theater in Henrietta. I parked my bike inside the theater, next to a refreshment stand and the ticket taker. I locked the big ol’ chain through the wheel and frame, but there wasn’t anything to lock the bike to.
Two hours later, we came out of the movie (which was excellent) and my sister said, “Wasn’t your bike in front of the refreshment stand?” That’s the kind of joke I’d expect her to play, but when I got in sight of the stand, I could plainly see that my bike was missing. My heart dropped into my socks. I just had a bike stolen in May. Two in three months would be cruel indeed.
I spotted a security guard going into one of the theaters and asked him whether he’d seen my bike. “No. Where was it?” I walked him over to the spot and he used his walkie-talkie to call the manager.
A minute later, an employee walks over to a door marked PRIVATE, unlocks it and retrieves my bike. The manager wasn’t sure whether “someone had left it there overnight,” so she locked it up in the office, just in case. The guard suggested nicely that I make arrangements with the manager next time so they’ll lock my bike up for me.
Oy!
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