My bike, an old red utterly no-frills raleigh one-speed, has been stolen before. It was gone for about a year, but then one of my roommates recognized the bike parked in front of a bar (thanks to the monkeyfist.com stickers I had put on it) and called me, so I ran down and stole it back. As it turned out, some drunk people had taken it for a joyride one night when I left it in front of the student building (no bike thief with a brain would want this bike, so I didn't usually lock it up at the time) and left it on someone's yard. So the person who I stole it back from was actually the friend of a friend of a friend who had found it on their yard.

Anyway, I went into The Pub last night for maybe two minutes to use the restroom, and left my bike outside. I left the building just in time to see a group of drunk morons sauntering down the road, one of whom was riding my bike. I got that feeling that I get when I should be really pissed off, but don't quite feel it, and yelled something uninspired like "Hey! Don't steal my f*#@%ing bike!" They all laughed, a bit nervously, and one of them said that they were just taking it for a test ride. I must have sounded a little scary, because the guy riding it handed it over right away, and mumbled that he was sorry for stealing my bike. Like an (rather enraged) idiot, I didn't get a good look at his face or ask him his name, though I'm sure he would have said "Joe" or something.

As soon as I was far enough that I wasn't going to turn around, the drunk morons decided it would be a good idea to yell various incoherent things at me, like "Yeaaaaahhh buddy", and I think I heard "nice bike" in there somewhere. Cowards.

Obviously some part of this bugged me, though I'm not sure what yet. There really isn't any reason for me to tell the above story, other than my infrequent use of misnomer as a cathartic outlet. Everyone already knows that drunk morons exist. Maybe it serves to illustrate that drunk upper-class college kids are every bit if not more stupid than any other drunk people. Maybe it shows, albeit indirectly, that being drunk is just a really lame excuse for doing stupid things. What's more likely, though, is that I'm just annoyed that I didn't turn around and ask them exactly why not wanting my bike stolen was something to be rididuled, or just report them.

It's one of those all around unsatisfying situations, though. Even if I had turned around, the resulting confrontation would surely have been a waste of time. I guess I should be glad that I still have my bike, but that's perverse in its own way. Oh well.