So, I was having a pretty lazy day at home, having just finished with the busiest part of my season (Writers Festival wrapped up last Wednesday) and it's miserable out there today - hovering a little above zero and drizzling. But I needed to get some groceries, so I gambled that it wasn't really raining that hard and headed out, without my rain pants, which often make it a little hard to shop.
It was cold. Pretty awful, actually, and I don't have gloves yet this year so my hands were freezing. But I bumped into a friend by complete accident, which was cool, and decided on the way home to swing by the LCBO for a bottle of wine. I parked outside, went in, spent a grand total of maybe ten minutes, most of that standing in the Hallowe'en-party lineup.
And when I came out, my headlights were gone. Again. I left the bike for ten minutes, in broad daylight, in the pouring rain, way the hell out on the south end of Bank Street, and someone took my headlights.
Interesting that my reaction was the same as the last time this happened: I went back into the building it happened outside, to tell someone. I don't think I had any idea that anyone would be able to help, or would even care, but I wanted to tell someone, rather than just get on my bike and pedal away from the scene with the headlights gone. And true, no one in the LCBO cared. They told me I couldn't leave my bike in the entranceway and shrugged when I told them what had happened. Which was no help at all.
I used to sometimes just pull the bike up and park it at the rack, without locking it up. (Catch me ever doing that again.) But that I can't leave Mike alone for five minutes without taking the lights off and bringing them in with me? That's so damn depressing.
Who does that? What earthly good could those headlights do them? What makes them walk past a parked bicycle and simply stop, take something off it, and walk away? Who does that?