OK, so it was my senior year of high school. I was just beginning to enjoy getting out for lunch every day (underclassmen had to stay at the school), but I usually stayed at school anyway. But on this day, I had forgotten my history textbook. OH NOES! What would I do? There was no way I could go home and get it in the 30 minutes we had for lunch. The walk was too far.
Or was it? Because I walked to school everyday, I knew of a bicycle that was often stashed at the back of the schoolyards, near the baseball field. Usually it was unsecured, because it was a shitty bike, and who would steal it, right?
Well, me. I walked to the back of the baseball field and there was my t(rusty) steed. Undaunted by the thought of breaking the law, I climbed aboard and pedaled for home. Once there, I got my book, slapped together a sandwich, grabed a Pepsi and headed back for school.
I parked the bike at the back of the baseball field with 10 minutes to spare. I was about to go back inside when I decided to leave a thankyou note. I scribbled it hastily on a piece of notebook paper and attached it to the handlebars.
It read:
THANKS FOR THE RIDE!
I never did see the bike again.
