Bicycle Thieves

Two wrongs don't make a right.

Illustration by Leah Lin

Not long ago there was some guy in Portland who had his bike stolen, and then he found a Craigslist post from someone in Seattle who was selling his bike. So he wrote the guy, said he wanted to buy the bike, arranged to meet at a grocery store for the transaction and called the cops. And of course he filmed it, it’s on YouTube and it goes something like:

“That’s my bike, he stole my bike, officer.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Cops stand bewildered, or maybe just bored.

“It’s my bike dude.”

“Sorry, man. Not your bike.”

And yes, it’s very clear: the bike is his stolen bike. But what can he do?

I’ve had two bikes stolen in the thirteen years I’ve lived in Brooklyn.

The first bike I had stolen is an embarrassing story. I had gone into the bodega for just a few minutes, leaving my bike unlocked outside, and when I returned it was gone. In fact, no one, nothing was on the street; no one on the sidewalk, not as far as I could see, not a car, not even a breeze. I could hear the streetligh…