My homegirl's bicycle was stolen off her front porch. Flowers wilted that day as the terrorists won. She had just gotten it a few months earlier, a present from her lover. It was a work of art, with silver tassels and custom fenders. Oh the evil, evil state of humanity! If you read in earlier posts, I bitch slapped a famous artist because he admitted in front of me that he had stolen over 300 bicycles. I take these things personally.
Well guess what?
I was riding down Alberta Street and lo and behold, there is her shiny red pony, locked up to a pole. Shazaam! I quickly ducked into a phonebooth to change and flew over to the crime scene. I locked it up right quick with my own lock and called up the owner, Agent Trouble. I told her to find some bolt cutters and hurry on down. I knew to lock it up from a similar story by Megulon 5 of Chunk 666. He got his crazy freak bike stolen and someone had parked it in front of his work one day. Well he locked it up and put a note on it. So that's what I was going to do. There was a guy cutting the lawn around the bike, so I crossed the street to write the note in case Trouble couldn't secure some bolt cutters. I am mid threatening sentence when I hear a "What the...!" and I turn around and it is this older male trying to get going on her steed.
I strut across the street in a "gonna get down to it" sort of way.
I tell the dude that the bike isn't going anywhere and that it is a stolen bike.
He doesn't like that at all.
He says that it's his and he bought it for $50. Well, DUDE, that fender that got all scratched off, that glittery S on the headpost, that's my girls bike, so you need to go to whomever sold you this bike and ask for your money back. It's a stolen bike.
He looked me dead in the eyes and said, "I don't steal bikes, I murder."
I really wish that I had crossed my arms and returned the stare with, "Well isn't that a coincidence."
Well that's interesting is probably what I said, and he proceeded to rail me about how he's 53 and was eating at the senior citizens center and "you know this neighborhood" he needed a bike and had some money. I told him that it is very obvious that the bike was stolen, and he said,"Listen child, you don't know." Sort of thing, a little head wagging, and he called me a bitch.
I asked him if it crossed his mind that it was stolen when he purchased it.
He didn't say anything, so I went ahead and flipped my own bitch switch and said all sorts of things about how this "child" knows this neighborhood better than a sketchy dude calling himself a senior citizen and that if he wanted to murder me he should probably start trying because I have REALLY wanted to try out all this Kung Fu I have been studying (like the touch of death) and finally, don't call me a bitch or I will act like one. Huh!
So he has already unlocked the bike earlier when he was trying to take off, he he is just sitting there, waiting for Agent Trouble to come so he can scam her out of a few bucks. I told him she didn't have any money. But he was still waiting.
It got pretty awkward, me and him on opposite side of the red Sekai cruiser, arms crossed, shooting poo out of our stares to eachother. It was like ten minutes after I flipped my switch until she came. You can only tap your foot angrily for so long.
Here she comes down the road with two red handles sticking out of her backpack and the biggest smile on her face. Dude tries to get money, she says he can go ahead and shut up because it's her bike and he got duped if he really did pay any money.
I brushed off my hands and went back into the phonebooth so trouble and I could get some coffee as civilians. On the way home, she was telling eveyone. Random hispanic lady at the bus stop, guys on the corner, it was like a musical.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
triumphant! you are beautiful!
Post a Comment