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You Win, Los Angeles

You win. I don't know when you decided that this was a fight, but I give up. You win.

I won't ride my bike anymore. I know you don't like it. Oh, you had me fooled for a little while there -- I was avoiding your traffic and it was avoiding me. We had a little system worked out. But you've stolen two of my bikes now. The first one I'll grant you, since it wasn't locked up. But this one was. Yes, I know it was stupid of me to spend $500 on it and only $30 on the lock. Not that it matters -- I get it now. I'll drive. Fine.

I know you didn't want us here, Los Angeles. Samantha knew that right away (she's the smart one). But she's gone, and I'm going, just as fast as I can. But you're gonna have to put up with me until your big brother New York gives me a job.

I know you hate me, Los Angeles -- I just wish you wouldn't make it so damned obvious.

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Comments (5)

Anonymous:

Ag, Andrew...I'm sorry. Kick LA in the teeth!

Anonymous:

Wow, you are taking this way too personally. If you think NY will treat your bikes any more courteously, you are in for a rude awakening.

wick:

Sheesh, can't you let a guy mope a little? Yeah, the post was overly dramatic, but can you blame me?

I'm over it now. Mistakes made, lessons learned -- I'll be spending less on the bike and more on the lock in the future, especially considering I'll be moving to New York -- where good bike thieves go to make it big!

PS - Sign your comment next time -- I like to know who's making fun of me! :)

Xtina:

Whoa. That most *definitely* sucks about the bike loss (just after you fixed its flat, eh?), but as the cheerleading Angeleno that I am, I do feel compelled to say: the Universe isn't out to get you, nor the small corner of the Universe that happens to be marked by the boundaries of Ventura County on the north and Orange County on the south.

I'm a bike rider myself on these mean urban streets, and it's none too friendly, I'll concede. But no American metropolis that I've yet visited or lived in truly is; not like Berlin or Amsterdam or any other uber-civilized European city. Still remains worthy and admirable to pick up a(-nother) set of wheels, strap on a helmet, and hit the streets.

Cars will be hit. Bikes will be stolen. Los Angeles will be rattled by a major earthquake. New York will be roasted by Godzilla. Entropy happens. No reason to run, 'cause there's nowhere to run to. Entropy's gonna happen there, too.

All that being said, I'm sorry that you've felt beseiged here, but predict (arrogantly? ardently? stupidly?) that you're gonna miss us when you're gone. We'll miss you. :)

Paul B.:

Bummer about the bike man. I feel your pain. Maria's bike seat was stolen last year. As soon as we replaced it, the tires and new seat were stolen less than a week later. The frame currently sits in our basement.

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