got back home last night from helping a friend move, and my fiance asked, 'hey where's your bike?" i keep my bike in my garage, which is safe and secure. however, there is a side door leading into an inner stairway, and within this stairway is a door that goes into the garage. anyway, we always make sure that the side door is locked as there are other things in the garage that could definitely be stolen. Well, hey, that goddamned door was unlocked last night! stolen were the bike, helmet, and bike pump, but oddly enough nothing else.

there's two culprits on the door being unlocked: 1) the downstairs neighbors who moved out this weekend or 2) Constantine, the 90 year old belligerent maintenance man. Regardless, I guess it really doesn't matter. Now I have to hope that my renters insurance will do something about this. However, there was a poor white plastic chair that felt my drunken wrath last night. the thing shattered like glass. ahh testosterone

sucks. hard.

And contrary to popular belief, smashing things when you're pissed off solves A LOT.

Sorry about your bike man, that sucks.

Sorry man - I know the feeling all too well. Hope your deductable's low.

fuck, man. Sorry to hear it. Especially about the poor chair.

this was the first significant thing I've ever had stolen. So that, added to the fact that some motherfucker was in my fucking place is a violating feeling. and for some reason smashing that chair was an exhilarating experience, but i'm not a violent dude.

Dude,

since I am moving, I'd sell you my bike cheap.

TELL me about it.

and added to everything is that this bike was one that my friend gave me out of goodwill. so the only money i'm out is the cost of the helmet, but still, having my friend's property stolen added to the anger

We had a good chunk of gear stolen in college out of our rehearsal space. Little dipshit that ran the joint had a pirate radio station downstairs in the creepy basement, and left the front door unlocked constantly so his buddies could wander in. They'd asked us about borrowing what was stolen before. Upstairs space was one huge, condemnable warehouse-type space, with like 7 or 8 bands' wortha shit around the room's edges. Only we got pinched.

We trashed a recliner chair in the middle of the room with a section of steel rebar. If you swing one of those hard enough, it goes through lumber.

Didn't Busty also "work brown" in that joint after all that went down?

I had my bike stolen from my garage when I was 12...I was so pissed.

...I believe that was technically in the other 1/2 of that building, in a different space. Right in the middle of the floor, if memory serves.

It was actually our next practice space, right next door. But yes, yes I did. I like to think that I did that in retaliation for this incident, but I know deep down it's just because I can be a sick fuck. Sue me.

it'd be one thing if I just had it on my porch, just sitting there unlocked and someone snatched it. but this guy/guys came into my property and took it. in walking to the L this morning every bike I heard go past I gave a long stare hoping that it was mine and I could do some super action hero type shit.

I have had my last 2 bikes stolen. It sucks. If I ever get another its gonna be some used beat up piece-o, ehhhh that was probably stolen at one time..

I bet the downstairs neighbors who just moved out took it. Hunt them down and kill them.

Damn- sorry to hear it. I feel your pain.

yeah...I couldn't beleive it when it happened, they just walked right into my garage. At the time, my dad took me to 7 mile fair to see if anyone was selling it on the "black market" I was a nice bike..I'm still mad about it.

Thanks for solving the mystery.

well they were supposedly out on saturday, but they could certainly have still had their keys on sunday

I posted before I saw the "official" answer. Christ, nancy, go get some coffee or something.

actually, I'm going to check craigslist and ebay for the next few days just to see if anything pops up resembling this bike. I know it'll be all for nought, but what the hell

I don't drink coffee.

Ouch - been there, thanks to some 14 year old wanna-be gangsta running off with my new bike and luggage (with my new laptop inside). And my change jar. On Easter weekend. Asshole.

psssst...check Haq's place. There's that poll thing and all, y'know.