I’m Angry – This Is My Post

The same researcher/translator who helped me out with my residence permit, along with numerous other things, helped me again tonight. It’s hard to refer to her without a name, but as a matter of internet etiquette, I won’t use her name without her knowing. She will be known here as M1951.

M1951 and I went to the train station tonight, to find what we could. We found the spot where I had locked it, right next to three taxis. M1951 talked to the taxi drivers, who knew everything. They had noticed my bike there for two days and thought it was odd that someone would leave such a nice bike at the train station for so long. On the second night, a short black kid was able to easily open the lock and pedal away with it. Of course, they noted the peculiarity of a short kid riding a big bike. (I’m every bit of 6’3″.)

With that, M1951 and I went to the Questura – the main provincial police station – and filed a report.

Somebody or another I work with may have a used bike I could buy for hopefully cheap. Getting something that looks like crap and runs well would be ideal, so I can actually use it without fear of it being stolen. Additionally, the combination of looking like crap and running well would be the exact opposite of what my last bike did. It couldn’t handle a couple of spills. I hope that parasite likes what he got.

It was, um, okay, while it lasted.

If I get another bike, used or new, while I am here, I am going to use the thickest gauge, biggest, meanest combination lock you ever saw.

Now for a brief musical interlude.

Before we even got to the train station, M1951 mentioned that many in the immigrant community are poor, so they steal stuff and resell it. I don’t care. That was my property. Now I can’t get around faster than really slow.

The individual who stole my bike was a worthless criminal and parasite and I want to beat him with a pipe. And there is nothing wrong with me feeling that way.

I biked all over Morgantown for three years, often leaving my bike tied up outside for long periods and at night. Someone may have stolen a mud guard once. I bike around Savona for two months and a criminal expert enough to open a keyed lock with minimal effort steals my bike. Several guys I work with have told me that I need to lock up my bike anywhere I put it, because it’s a nice bike. I do so, and that doesn’t stop anything. M1951 said she thought I would have taken the bus to the train station and left my bike inside the locked gates of the university. Well, no, I didn’t know the train station was such a dangerous place for bikes. Is crime so common here that information like ‘you shouldn’t leave your bike at the train station overnight’ is considered to be common knowledge?

Screw this place.