The following is excerpted from Whatever…Whenever:
Today is one of my proudest days as a New Yorker.
My bike got stolen last night and goddamn if I didnâ€™t have it back before noon today, thanks to a curious but powerful mixture of internet savvy, a responsive police force, and one very special â€œLaw and Orderâ€ fan.
Last night I went to meet Maura at the Arcade Fire/Spoon show at Madison Square Garden, so I biked to the Marcy JMZ subway stop and locked my bike there, and then took the train into the city. Then I went to the show which was awesome. Spoon was awesome. Arcade Fire was awesome. It was a truly inspirational musical event of both delicate and epic proportions. We had some drinks. I got on the train around 1 AM and it took me an hour to get home but I was so thrilled by the show I didnâ€™t even care that much. I got off the train, still feeling pretty jaunty, and when I went to get my bike it was gone.
I didnâ€™t cry but I jutted my lower lip out the entire way home. It was a genuine sad face. I tried to stop the sad face but I could not. I really love my yellow bike, and it is summer and riding your bike is the best, and also it is my main form of transportation around town. I didnâ€™t know how I was going to be able to afford a new one, and seriously, I was super bummed. It is a material object, yes, and it can be replaced, but itâ€™s MY BIKE AND I LOVE IT.
I sad-faced myself to sleep.
Read the rest of the story here, which provides some great ideas on how to retrieve your own bike should it be illicitly borrowed.