Nov. 11th, 2005
I met bachlover for Dojo's again, and when I got back to my bike, the key wouldn't turn. I immediately formed several hypotheses, Watson, where ennumerate as follows:
(1) I was turning it the wrong way
(2) I had wandered into an alternate cambridge where my key was very slightly different
(3) I was trying to unlock the wrong bike
(4) Someone had damaged the lock trying to pick it
(5) Someone had damaged the lock our of spite
(6) Someone had damaged the lock out of a cunning campaign to pursuade people it's better to leave your bike unlocked and have it stolen occasionally than have it be buggered every time.
(7) Someone had damaged the lock intending to come back with a hacksaw later.
I quickly eliminated (2) and (6) as implausible, (1) and (3) by inspection, (7) by hope, and concluded (4) or (5) meant I was stuck.
I wandered over to the Carlton, where Susan gallantly offered to lend me her emergency bike, and maybe provide fortifying alchoholic chocalte liquid stuff.
As promised, this was very pink-and-white, very rickety, somewhat flat and had worn brakes. The chain came off about 5 times in the first two hundred yards, but then we reached an accomodation, and it got me safely home with no incident. It's quite restful to cycle slowly for once, and concentrate on how it's faster than walking not slower than instant, and do some plotting (Got a Big Bad :)). I decided it was a bike with some character, a la Phaeton in Robert Rankin.
Today I cycled into town before work, bought a hacksaw, and vented myself on my old lock. It doesn't take very long at all. As a precaution I took the receipt and manual for the bike, but no-one challenged me, except for one boy who said "That looks rather illegal," to which I responded "It does, doesn't it?"
I suppose it's a bad risk to steal a bike in broad daylight if only because the owner might come back, but still I wanted to grab people to shake them and say "Look at me! Ask me if this bike is mine, or something, won't you? I could be stealing it" OTOH, that might give the wrong idea.
Spookily, Mair also had to do this today.
(1) I was turning it the wrong way
(2) I had wandered into an alternate cambridge where my key was very slightly different
(3) I was trying to unlock the wrong bike
(4) Someone had damaged the lock trying to pick it
(5) Someone had damaged the lock our of spite
(6) Someone had damaged the lock out of a cunning campaign to pursuade people it's better to leave your bike unlocked and have it stolen occasionally than have it be buggered every time.
(7) Someone had damaged the lock intending to come back with a hacksaw later.
I quickly eliminated (2) and (6) as implausible, (1) and (3) by inspection, (7) by hope, and concluded (4) or (5) meant I was stuck.
I wandered over to the Carlton, where Susan gallantly offered to lend me her emergency bike, and maybe provide fortifying alchoholic chocalte liquid stuff.
As promised, this was very pink-and-white, very rickety, somewhat flat and had worn brakes. The chain came off about 5 times in the first two hundred yards, but then we reached an accomodation, and it got me safely home with no incident. It's quite restful to cycle slowly for once, and concentrate on how it's faster than walking not slower than instant, and do some plotting (Got a Big Bad :)). I decided it was a bike with some character, a la Phaeton in Robert Rankin.
Today I cycled into town before work, bought a hacksaw, and vented myself on my old lock. It doesn't take very long at all. As a precaution I took the receipt and manual for the bike, but no-one challenged me, except for one boy who said "That looks rather illegal," to which I responded "It does, doesn't it?"
I suppose it's a bad risk to steal a bike in broad daylight if only because the owner might come back, but still I wanted to grab people to shake them and say "Look at me! Ask me if this bike is mine, or something, won't you? I could be stealing it" OTOH, that might give the wrong idea.
Spookily, Mair also had to do this today.