Pedalphile in the Neighborhood

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Two years ago, we had a garage sale and sold some guy an old 21-speed of ours for $10. The guy had no way to take the bike home at the time, so he just paid for it and said he’d be back later to pick it up. He had not come back for his bike by the time we were closing up shop, so I parked it just inside our backyard gate thinking he would return later that evening. But he didn’t return, and he didn’t return, not that evening, not the next day, not the next week.

The tires went flat, the chain and sprockets eventually rusted. Then after two years of mowing around the bike, and at my wife’s pleading, I finally moved the bike out of the backyard in preparation for the graduation party we were preparing for recently.

That rusty old 21-speed did not last but two days outside the confines and protection of the privacy fence surrounding my backyard, and it was gone. Maybe the bicycles rightful owner finally came by to pick it up. He sure must have been disappointed in the weathered condition of his $10 prized purchase.

When I was a kid, the house where I grew up did not have a fence around the yard or a garage to put my bike in. I parked my bike wherever it landed smack-dab in the front yard. I never locked it up and never had it stolen. But times are sadly different now…

Maybe there is a pedal-phile living in the neighborhood.

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