Tuesday, August 7, 2007

I drove down a thief

Ok, today was a long day. I woke up early after going to bed late installing an espresso machine at the coffee shop. Not a real cool thing to do late at night. I drove up to Ramsey MN to roast coffee and left there at about 3. I got home at 3:45 to take a shower and this is where my rage began.
My bike is in the entry way of my home, in my house. I ran up stairs, took a shower, got dressed and came down stairs to go to work again, all in 15 minutes. In coming down stairs my bike was gone, the door wide open and a shitty bike in it's place.

No way ...

15 minutes and my bike is gone! "This is not happening, I have to go to work and my bike is gone! I'm gonna find you you bastard." I ran down to my truck in a fever and swung around, pacing back and forth through the streets around my home. I saw two people talking about there dogs and I asked if they've seen anyone riding a red bike.
"Oh, are you looking for someone?" in a super concerned voice.
"I'm looking for the bike!" I said. And then they went on about how thats been a problem in the neighborhood and how someone should really do something about that, and ... then -
"there's a red bike!" the man says. I floor it in park and wrench it down into drive, kicking up pavement. This devious thief, leisurely riding on my bike, doesn't notice that this racing truck is actually the owner of the bike he's riding on. I drive past him accidentally because he's riding toward me so I slam on the brakes and with all 2.2 liters of power throw it in reverse throwing dirt, pavement and metal shavings from my engine into the air.
He's startled and scared, but acts like he doesn't notice. Oh, but I make him notice when I jump out of the truck and say:
"Hey dude, that's my fucking bike!"
"Ah, I gave you my bike ..."
"Get off my bike dude!"
The people with the dogs begin to bombard him with hateful commentary on the state of thievery in the neighborhood as I yank the bike from under him and throw it in my truck. I start to dial 911 as he runs back to his bike. I hang up the phone. The people with dogs relay their commentary they had with the man to me. But I'm not listening. I have temporarily left the matrix to get some weapons. I come back and using all my focus and might I fly up into the sky, weapons in hand. I can feel their thirst for blood, the blood of my enemy. The world is a fire, unquenchable and these people begin to fade away and all I see is my enemy and his fear. He should be afraid, because fate has it that he will die by my hand.
But then I remember, I have to go to work. And I leave to brew coffee and espresso.

I realize at work that my bike had been stolen and I had no idea where the thief went, I tracked him down, and got it back. Thank you Lord, for helping me get my bike back. Really.

2 comments:

Kevin said...

Whoa, Pat! Miss America kicks some ass. That was riveting.

And thank you for not literally running down the thief.

Francisco and Kristy said...

lol go pat!