One of my favorite other blogs to read recently did a post about the ghetto (read http://mooselicker.wordpress.com/2012/01/25/ghettos/), which inspired me to tell you guys about my own run-in with the ghetto. While I was still in college, I lived (with J-brid) in a tiny apartment about a half a mile away from campus. The people beside me were in a band, the little asian girls that lived above us eventually burned their apartment down & people were always breaking into the pool area at 2 am to have parties. Occasionally, there were gunshots. The carwash up the street always had black Escalades with tinted windows parked there. Yes, we were indeed in the ghetto.
I used to ride my bike that I lovingly named Pinky to school everyday. I had to park Pinky outside my apartment, but I chained her up to the railing, oh I dunno, 4 feet from my front door. She had a little registration tag on her so that she could also be parked on campus without being towed? or whatever they do to unregistered bikes.
The morning that Pinky went missing, I was supposed to have a meeting with the chancellor’s wife, so I had on my best outfit. That’s when I noticed…Pinky was gone. J-bird & I decided before the meeting (we had like 2 hours) we’d go to the on-campus security office to report her as missing. They told us to call the police. We called the police. They told us to call campus security. You get the idea. I was given the run-around. Bummed that Pinky may be gone forever, we began walking to my meeting, as J-bird yelled, There! Over there she is! I immediately looked up to see a young thug in a blue jacket riding my Pinky down the road! I dailed the police back as we took off running. I’m pursuing the bike suspect on foot! I yelled to cop.
We followed the thug all the way to the library (yea exactly where I’d go too with a stolen bike) where we watched him chain it to a tree. The cops then met us there to get a full description of the suspect. Then we had to wait 2 hours while they searched the library for the thug to arrest him…yes. Over a bike. Yes, I missed my meeting, having to send a classmate in my place.
Turns out the thug was a 12 year old child…that just wanted a bike. Nonetheless, Pinky went back home with me that day & we happily spent the rest of the school year together. Then, I moved to another ghetto.
Stay safe out there.