Thursday Oct 2nd, as the plucky bicycle pornographers set up shop at the Hollywood Theater a lady cried out in despair."Help! Help! That guy stole my bicycle! Help!"
Like a drugged cat I sprong into confusion, my eyes wide with excitement as something crazy was happening and i wasn't sure what. Peering across the street we saw Toni Russle, a middle aged, toe-headed beautician running on the north sidewalk of Sandy Blvd screaming and running as fast as she could (not all that fast) after a guy on a blue bicycle (strangely he was also not going very fast)
"Stop him he stole my bike! Help! Stop Him!"
So we got to our bikes and I immediately dropped my keys. Then could not get them in the lock, then dropped them again. That was when I was planning on giving up, but as i turned around to look at their progress it seemed they had only gone about a quarter-block. So after a few more tries i was able to get it. By then my friend had already gotten to his bike and was in pursuit. I followed as best as i could, that is to say I kinda decided I could take my time, besides I thought my friend could handle it.
Sure enough he did. About 10 blocks later the thief had encircled the entire block and was now heading heading west to Sandy blvd. He nonchalantly rode the on the southside sidewalk unaware that (almost) two able bodied crime fighters were in (kinda) hot pursuit. My friend caught up to him and collared him down right in front of the Hollywood Liquor store. "How convenient," we thought. It's like dinner in a bottle and a movie." We do appreciate a nip of whiskey with our evil crime fighting.
We had him pretty well detained. And decided to call the cops to let them deal with the punk kid. "Why did you steal this bicycle?""I needed a new bike." he said simply.
I called 911 which takes you to an answering machine that asks you if you meant to call 911. This seems kinda smart, but really it was a little distressing being on hold.
The cops were confused by directions but eventually made it on to the scene. When they do finally show up they sent 3 cars. I felt kinda safer.
Immediately the cop cuffs the thief then as soon as he is done, realizes he has a backpack on and uses his knife to cut the straps. My friend and I both flinch at this, but say nothing.
We return the cops to the Beautician who comes in for the show. She is overwhelmed and because he is some "crazy mixed up kid" at the tender age of 17, she decides not to press charges.
Maybe someone would like to tell us about the value of calling the police vs just beating the snot out of a punk who has only a sliced backpack as a warning of why he should not steal bikes.
Thanks, crime fighting friend. We wonder too.
