Ode to my Clever Mike

Not having a car I have learned to rely a great deal on my bike. The other day I rode my bike to Shabudabu’s apartment for a visit. She happens to live one block away from the worst corner in Brantford (which by comparison with other cities, isn’t that bad). I used to live in that area anyway, and I would always leave my bike chained up on the street. This time was no exception.

I had my bike chained up on Dalhousie street for a few days. Those were colourful days yet my bike survived the burning church, the building evacuations, and the constant procession of drunks from Rumbles. On the day Shabudabu moved back into her apartment, I found that someone had (just for a laugh) kicked the crap out of my bike. The back tire was bent almost in half and it was totally unridable. Luckily I was borrowing my Dad’s van that night and I came by to pick up the bike and drive it home, where I could attempt repairs, only to find that someone had cut my bike lock and taken my broken bike. I don’t know where it is, and City Hall was closed when I went by to check city records.

I am now a broken and bike-less man.