Dear You,

Mr. Bike Thief -

I’ve been thinking about this post for a solid 1/2 hour now while I walked back from the Presidential election. You are right, it was stupid of me to lock my bike on a dark street in New York City. Honestly, I considered attempting to lock my rear wheel with the frame to the sign post, but my luck had been pretty good to date.

Since I moved to New York, I’ve had two things stolen from my bike. A light which was removed easily, and a plastic fender that required a certain amount of effort. The fender was snapped into place around my seat post, behind the bike chain that held my saddle in place. In an attempt to rationalize the act, I explained to myself that had it been wet weather, this “liberation” would have been justified. But the truth is that it was the coldest, driest day of the winter. You had to take off your gloves so that you could work your fingers under the latch and pry it out of the “seat leash.” But whatever. That’s an accessory. I rode home wiser.

Tonight, of all nights, you struck again. I locked my bike on Elizabeth St. for 5 hours while I supported our next President. I was 2 blocks away, and you snuck out your Allen key set, loosened the bolts of my 1-week old rear wheel, and disappeared into the evening.

Honestly, it could bother me more. The truth is that I can afford a new wheel of the same make, something that you probably can’t. But you did it tonight, on the eve of the turn of our country. That is what bothers me.

You recognized the wheel, had the tools, and the lack of conscience that enabled you to filch a vital part of my daily transportation. This speaks volumes about you. You are a young, bike culture savvy member of society who probably rides a bike yourself. Otherwise, why would you carry that specific tool? Maybe you took glee in the hope that I would have to haul my bike home via subway, but much to your dismay, I walked the whole 10 blocks smiling, thinking about how much better this country will be.

Sure, you got my rear wheel. Yea, I walked home tonight, and will order the parts to build a new wheel tomorrow. But you have to live with the fact that you are part of a world that is antiquated. You represent what is wrong with the world, a society that takes rather than earns, what is scorned by our bright future. I will relish in your punishment.

I don’t give a fuck about my wheel. It is a material possession that you probably couldn’t have afforded in the first place. If anything, I’d like my 3 spoke cards back. They represent 4 years of my life in Philadelphia, and the races I competed in. But even those are now tinged with your vile act. Instead, I wish the worst for you. I hope that karma slowly and steadily unravels everything that you hold sacred and assumed was safe. I hope that your “new” bike wheel falls apart beneath you, and that cars ignore traffic lights while you cross avenues.

If you see someone riding a Paul high flange rear hub laced to Velocity Aerohead rim with brass nipples who didn’t have it before, stop them. I’ve give you a reward. If not, fuck it. I learned my lesson.

But to you, please know: I striped the hub’s lockring threading today. Pretty badly, actually. You would have been better off stealing the front wheel. I planned to get it looked at tomorrow, but, well, it’s out of my hands now. If you try to stop suddenly and find yourself staring down the grill of a yellow cab, please think of me.

xoxo, Eli