Tuesday, June 4, 2013

All of Stockholm saw my underwear this morning

And if anyone missed it, they got another chance in the late afternoon and early evening. The combination of a slightly too short dress and a too high seat on my bicycle was not optimal, to say the least. But it wasn't my fault. Really.

My bike was stolen yesterday. Over the last several months, I have become better acquainted with how it feels to come to the spot where you left your bike the night before and find it missing. This happened last November - but on a rainy, cold morning, I was almost thankful to have to take the bus to work.

Yesterday, however, that same helpless feeling was made worse in finding the wimpy lock that had protected my bike sliced in half on the ground outside my apartment where I'd last left it. Someone had come down my tiny bike path of a street and deliberately stolen my bike, equipped with what very well could have been a pair of kitchen scissors - a preconceived burglary.

I defeatedly trudged to the tunnelbana station and got on the sweaty, crowded train. How I longed to be pedalling in the warm sun!

After arriving home last night (by foot), NS made a discovery - my bike had been "returned" and was parked in the bike dock of the apartment next door! What luck, what happiness! The perpetrator had realized their mistake of having stolen the worst bike on the block! Hurra!

I must admit that I have cursed my bike countless times since buying it in April, but, if nothing else, this incident has given me an appreciation for my main mode of transportation. 

The bike was returned intact, albeit a missing seat cover and, curiously, a raised seat. Hence, the day's never-ending peep show. My hope is that in such a liberal city, no one minded too much, but I'm not so sure. Only in Stockholm is a bike stolen in the morning and returned by night fall. And just so you all know, I've now invested in a real lock... let's hope this was my last robbery.