(no subject)
Ever heard of (or used) a Kryptonite U lock for your bicycle? I've been using one for some time now, and I've trusted it to protect my bike in some pretty shady spots.
In retrospect, its undoing is pretty funny.
So I had work until 7:00, and I wanted to drop off a TPB with alisha and grab the ones back from her that she'd borrowed, as well as lend zander medulla if I could find him, and get a CD from cutler's to review for tomorrow...all before meeting my mom in New Haven between 7:30 and 7:45 to go home. Now it turned out I couldn't get a hold of Zander so that awas moot. So all I had to do was make a comic-trade and grab a CD. Plenty f time, right? So when Steve (my boss) asks if it's okay if he's a few minutes late coming back from dinner (i.e. can i cover him for a few minutes past 7?) I say fine.
Fast forward to 7:26. I've just left him a message half-frantically telling him that I'm going to close the reception area down at 7:30 if he doesn't get back, because I really have to go. meanwhile, I'm debating whether to actually go through with my threat, because I feel guilty doing it, since this lateness is the same shit I pull on Steve sometimes too. Alisha has left dinner early to meet me...for nothing so far, because Steve is so late. I call my mom and tell her it wil definitely be more like 7:45, if not later, which she's kinda upset about because between 7:30 and 7:45 is the compromise we made because she wanted to get home.
At 7:30 Steve walks in the door and I fly out past him, mumbling something about the Portuguese movie screening in the basement. I unlock my bike and ride it into Branford, up to Entryway B (the Master's House, the Dean's Suite, a Fellow's Suite, and then, on the sixth floor, a couple singles, in one of which Alisha lives). I hurriedly lock my bike to the railing of the stairs there and ask someone walking by to let me into the entryway. he mentions something about how there are bike racks in Linonia Court and blah blah blah.
"I know. I'm just in a bit of a rush," I said.
Nothing like famous last words, eh?
I run upstairs, trade off the comic books, come back down, and--the U Lock key does not fit in the lock. In my rush to lock it up, I somehow got the key out without completely locking the lock, so that it's not lined up and I can't put the key back in.
I call my mom and tell her I will meet her at Cutler's...but when I get there I'm stressed about my bike and a million other things and cn't figure out what to review so we split for my bike. I work at the lock with my mom's Swiss Army Knife for a little while, but to no avail. Eventually I calm down (I was freaking out a bit) nd call Physical Plant. 25 minutes later they arrive with some big fucking clippers. They struggle for ten minutes but the only thing they dent is the clippers. They say they might be back to take another shot at it; my mom and I go home.
Later that night I get a message on my cellphone that they went back and got it off. (With a torch I imagine. I have no fucking clue hoew they could have done it. The one thing this did prove is that I was justified in putting so much trust in the lock. You really CAN'T snap through it.
(did i mention that since I was in a hurry I only locked my fornt wheel and the frame, and so when i left for home with my mom i took my quick-release back wheel with me?)
So Physical Plant couldn't accept defeat, somehow got it off the railing, and basically threw it in Entryway B. I figured that I would hitch a ride form my dad on his way to work, pick the bike up at 6:30 am, and then the whole debacle would be over.
That was when Alisha IMed me to tell me that Branford's Master Smith had confiscated the bike and left an irritated note about bikes being locked where they shouldn't be. Now, I'd always been a little cavalier with locking my bike inappropriately, because i didn't do it that often, and I always figured, "Hell, they can't do anything about it, because my bike is LOCKED there." Again, famous last words? I freaked again, at the prospect of not having any time to meet with Master Smith and yet still having to ask what time to met was convenient for him, because I was in no place to make demands. This of course, is not fear of Master Smith. It's rather fear that I will take out my aggravation at one more freaking thing to worry about for tomorrow (there are already way too many) on Master Smith and then he'll react by throwing my bike away or something. (I know how unreasonable I sound about all this. So you don't have to tell me.)
Anyway, I sent this repentant email:
Master Smith,
I am the owner of the bicycle found in Entryway B of Branford. I'm a junior in Calhoun. I wanted to apologize for having my bike locked to the railing. I had figured there was such a rule, but I was running late to meet my mom (I live in Stratford, CT and was going home) and had to drop a book off to Alisha Richman (BR '05, room B51) and decided that locking it there a few minutes wouldn't hurt. When I came back down the lock was jammed and I had to call Physical Plant. I guess that just goes to show I should have locked it on the bike rack in Linonia Court in the first place. I'm sorry that my thoughtless rushing caused problems for other people.
I'd like to come get my bike off your hands, at your convenience. When would this be possible?
Thanks very much,
Nick Minichino
Calhoun '06
and now I'm awaiting his response. And planning on borrowing some family member's bike tomorrow because that's my only method of transportation (things are too closely scheduled, and far apart, for walking to be effective).
The worst part is, I know I'm way over-reacting...but I can't help it.
In retrospect, its undoing is pretty funny.
So I had work until 7:00, and I wanted to drop off a TPB with alisha and grab the ones back from her that she'd borrowed, as well as lend zander medulla if I could find him, and get a CD from cutler's to review for tomorrow...all before meeting my mom in New Haven between 7:30 and 7:45 to go home. Now it turned out I couldn't get a hold of Zander so that awas moot. So all I had to do was make a comic-trade and grab a CD. Plenty f time, right? So when Steve (my boss) asks if it's okay if he's a few minutes late coming back from dinner (i.e. can i cover him for a few minutes past 7?) I say fine.
Fast forward to 7:26. I've just left him a message half-frantically telling him that I'm going to close the reception area down at 7:30 if he doesn't get back, because I really have to go. meanwhile, I'm debating whether to actually go through with my threat, because I feel guilty doing it, since this lateness is the same shit I pull on Steve sometimes too. Alisha has left dinner early to meet me...for nothing so far, because Steve is so late. I call my mom and tell her it wil definitely be more like 7:45, if not later, which she's kinda upset about because between 7:30 and 7:45 is the compromise we made because she wanted to get home.
At 7:30 Steve walks in the door and I fly out past him, mumbling something about the Portuguese movie screening in the basement. I unlock my bike and ride it into Branford, up to Entryway B (the Master's House, the Dean's Suite, a Fellow's Suite, and then, on the sixth floor, a couple singles, in one of which Alisha lives). I hurriedly lock my bike to the railing of the stairs there and ask someone walking by to let me into the entryway. he mentions something about how there are bike racks in Linonia Court and blah blah blah.
"I know. I'm just in a bit of a rush," I said.
Nothing like famous last words, eh?
I run upstairs, trade off the comic books, come back down, and--the U Lock key does not fit in the lock. In my rush to lock it up, I somehow got the key out without completely locking the lock, so that it's not lined up and I can't put the key back in.
I call my mom and tell her I will meet her at Cutler's...but when I get there I'm stressed about my bike and a million other things and cn't figure out what to review so we split for my bike. I work at the lock with my mom's Swiss Army Knife for a little while, but to no avail. Eventually I calm down (I was freaking out a bit) nd call Physical Plant. 25 minutes later they arrive with some big fucking clippers. They struggle for ten minutes but the only thing they dent is the clippers. They say they might be back to take another shot at it; my mom and I go home.
Later that night I get a message on my cellphone that they went back and got it off. (With a torch I imagine. I have no fucking clue hoew they could have done it. The one thing this did prove is that I was justified in putting so much trust in the lock. You really CAN'T snap through it.
(did i mention that since I was in a hurry I only locked my fornt wheel and the frame, and so when i left for home with my mom i took my quick-release back wheel with me?)
So Physical Plant couldn't accept defeat, somehow got it off the railing, and basically threw it in Entryway B. I figured that I would hitch a ride form my dad on his way to work, pick the bike up at 6:30 am, and then the whole debacle would be over.
That was when Alisha IMed me to tell me that Branford's Master Smith had confiscated the bike and left an irritated note about bikes being locked where they shouldn't be. Now, I'd always been a little cavalier with locking my bike inappropriately, because i didn't do it that often, and I always figured, "Hell, they can't do anything about it, because my bike is LOCKED there." Again, famous last words? I freaked again, at the prospect of not having any time to meet with Master Smith and yet still having to ask what time to met was convenient for him, because I was in no place to make demands. This of course, is not fear of Master Smith. It's rather fear that I will take out my aggravation at one more freaking thing to worry about for tomorrow (there are already way too many) on Master Smith and then he'll react by throwing my bike away or something. (I know how unreasonable I sound about all this. So you don't have to tell me.)
Anyway, I sent this repentant email:
Master Smith,
I am the owner of the bicycle found in Entryway B of Branford. I'm a junior in Calhoun. I wanted to apologize for having my bike locked to the railing. I had figured there was such a rule, but I was running late to meet my mom (I live in Stratford, CT and was going home) and had to drop a book off to Alisha Richman (BR '05, room B51) and decided that locking it there a few minutes wouldn't hurt. When I came back down the lock was jammed and I had to call Physical Plant. I guess that just goes to show I should have locked it on the bike rack in Linonia Court in the first place. I'm sorry that my thoughtless rushing caused problems for other people.
I'd like to come get my bike off your hands, at your convenience. When would this be possible?
Thanks very much,
Nick Minichino
Calhoun '06
and now I'm awaiting his response. And planning on borrowing some family member's bike tomorrow because that's my only method of transportation (things are too closely scheduled, and far apart, for walking to be effective).
The worst part is, I know I'm way over-reacting...but I can't help it.