Saturday March 7th between noon and 6pm my bicycle went missing. It was a sad sad day. My wife and I had gone to Boise to look at purchasing a bike for herself. She had been riding a vintage bike, single speed, with extra rusty wheels and a few missing spokes. Due to its age we were concerned how long it might last. She had been thinking about a new bike for a while, something with gears and more comfort. That day we found just the bike for her an Electra salmon pink with turquoise wheels and white seat and grips. She oogled like hell over it. It was cute. She had her mind set and by god if anyone were to interfere she'd cut them. After getting her bike all packed up we made our way home. Oh and don't forget the matching turquoise basket. When we arrived home we were pumped to go on a bike ride. We pulled up and gathered some junk and clutter getting ready to take things up to apartment. As we walked up something seemed funny and couldn't quite put my thumb on it. Then my wife commented "where is your bike?" Then it dawned on me, my fucking bike was gone. My normal parking place was empty next to the steps leading up to the door. Upon further examination I found that the cable of my bike lock had been severed. Again I will say it was a sad sad day. I put my heart into my bike. A lot of time and energy my invested into making it what it is. Blood and sweat was shed but enjoyed. I had made a bike I was proud of. The only fixie in town and very distinct. If only I were to find my little Peugeot.
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