You stole my bike out of the hallway of my apartment building on Canada Day. It was entirely my fault. It's not a secure building, and the bike wasn't locked up. The fact that I've been storing my bike in that spot for almost ten years without incident doesn't mitigate my stupidity. That bike was my main method of transportation, and I should have taken better care of it. Fortunately for me, I'm not a starving college student who can't afford a bus pass. I'm a middle aged woman with a reasonable amount of disposable income, and I was able to go out and buy a newer, better bike right away. I keep it in my apartment.

I don't feel all that bad about losing that bike. It was on it's last leg (wheel?) anyway. But you, bicycle thief, should be aware that my adult son has taken this as a personal affront to his family honour. And if he sees you riding that very distinctive and easily identifiable bike, there is going to be bleeding and crying. I don't really care about the bike itself, but I wouldn't pass up the entertainment value of seeing my very big boy defend his mother's honour by beating you to a snivelling, whimpering pulp.

Miranda