Two weeks after getting my bike (with tagalong attached) it was stolen outside our house. Cut to a week later and on my way to work I see my bike chained to a street sign right across the street from our house. I leave a note. I am not hopeful.
The new owner comes to my work and says, I bought this bike at a bike shop in Chicago last night because my bike was stolen the day before. I describe the bike to the woman. She believes it is mine. Do you live near me, I ask and assume. No, I live in Chicago- I was only in your neighborhood to walk a dog. We meet that weekend at the bike shop.
Oh, they say, we keep documentation on anyone that sells us a bike. Oh, they add, we can’t find the paperwork for this bike. The new owner and I notice that a piece of paper with someone’s ID has since disappeared from the front desk. The front desk lady says, we’ve had this bike for a month and we put a new seat on it. The owner of the store arrives. Shakes his head no when I ask if they put a new seat on it. Front desk lady repeats, we’ve had this bike for a month. I show this picture. Not completely unaware of any endearment it may trigger. The owner studies it. I believe this is your bike, he says, after a few dozen or so awkward minutes. I need the police report. The new owner relinquishes the bike, saying, whether they refund me or not you can take the bike home. I am surprised and comforted by her honesty.
Cut to today. I am given the bike, paying only for the tune-up they did, not the new tire and lock. Funny how God/the universe works and the wheels turn. Now I can go on rides again with the little lady and all her toys.