My Kid has been having some…interesting…luck lately.
First, his little trick bike was stolen from work, right in front of him – he wasn’t able to get outside quickly enough to prevent the theft, so he had to watch as a dude ran off with his only mode of transportation.
Honestly, I was glad to see it go as he looked like a tweaker who had lost his license when he rode it. He’d left it outside at home multiple times, but this was the final straw and it was gone, despite a good lock and chain.
So he bought a beater mountain bike off Craigslist for $60 last month. It ran, but most of the paint was gone and it looked like shit. He left it outside on several occasions and it was never stolen. I was thinking, “Wow! We live in a good neighborhood, don’t we?”
Last Monday, his day off, he was returning home with some groceries and was hit by a car a couple of blocks from home. He was fine, but the bike was trashed – bent up front wheel and the left pedal was crushed beyond all use.
The cops were called, fault was found to be with the driver (who, according to The Kid, “peeled out without looking”) info was exchanged and off he went home.
A couple of hours later, the guy in the car shows up with a brand new bike!
Wow! Faith in humanity restored!
The Kid was understandably enamored with his new ride and vowed to be extra careful. He rode it to work with no issues all week.
And then he went over to a friend’s house for a “gaming party,” and left it sitting outside the closed garage door for some unspecified amount of time when he returned home. Had he been drinking? He won’t admit it, but he did say that he walked the bike home, instead of riding it, so odds are he was sloshed.
You can see where this is going, right? Yeah, his brand new bike was stolen.
He has no one to blame but himself, as he freely admits, but how many more times does this sort of thing have to happen before he wises up and takes more responsibility for his things? How many bikes has he lost to thieves? I think the count stands at three whole bikes and assorted parts off bikes that had removable accessories.
So now he’s on Foot Patrol unless he wants to fix up a spare bike I picked up for almost nothing last Summer to keep as a spare. Idiot doesn’t even have bus fare at the moment.
Sigh. I always thought I’d be living the Empty Nest dream by now, but, at 28, my son shows no signs of growing the fuck up any time soon.