Last fall, my daughter took her old bicycle to college. She was super excited about being able to get to her classes so much faster on wheels. My husband replaced the tires, screwed on a new seat and added a bell for good measure.
The bike was stolen within two weeks.
Our poor girl was distraught, but ready to admit that the theft was partially her fault. She hadn’t taken the time to secure her bike before she sprinted into class that day and lo and behold, it was gone by the time she got out. Not only was it not locked up, she hadn’t registered it with the campus police so there was nothing they could do to help her.
She spent the next few weeks suspiciously eyeing every bike rack she passed. Fall eventually turned into winter and before long, the ordeal was forgotten.
Fast forward to yesterday morning. My daughter is walking to her class passing tulips and azaleas and a lone bicycle laying flat on the ground next to the path. As she passes the bike something triggers a memory and she spins back around to take a closer look. There was the bell attached to the handlebar, the cushy seat, the relatively new looking tires.. “that’s my bike!” she gasped.
Our daughter picked up the bike and quickly wheeled it INTO the building she was headed to, then after class went straight to the campus police to tell them she thought she may have just “stolen her bike back.” She registered it on the spot and then peddled back to her sorority house, bringing the bike inside again where it will stay-safe and sound- until she gets her new lock delivered from Amazon.
What a way to end the school year..
reclaiming in the last month what was stolen in the first.