Leaving a hot and sweaty Lyric theatre tonight with Stewart Lee after a lovely packed gig. He offered me a lift home, but I told him I was on my bike.
But as we headed towards where I had locked it up (in clear view, under a street lam, right by a zebra crossing) I saw the bike was lying on its side. Had it just fallen over or had someone kicked it over.
On getting a bit closer though I saw that I had once again been the victim of an annoying and pointless crime. Someone had made off with the bike's front wheel and then I noticed my saddle as well. My bike is cheap and I would estimate that any thief would get three pounds for them on the black market, especially as the saddle had a rip in it. It made me laugh that the saddle had been taken. Only a pervert intent on smelling the faint traces of whatever had been brushing against it would get an use from it.
I suspected the stuff had been taken, not for profit, but just because it was possible to take it. Probably by some kids. I hope the thirty seconds of pleasure they got were good, because it was pretty inconvenient for me. Though, at least, I was immediately thinking, there might be a sketch in it for AIOTM which I had been struggling to write during the hot day. I have been overdoing things and having to get up early for radio shows and for the second day running I fell asleep on my sofa. And tonight's gig had taken up valuable writing time. So maybe there would be something in this. And luckily Stew was on hand to give me a lift so I didn't have to wheel (or worse ride) my new saddle-less unicycle home.
But carrying my vandalised bicycle into my home made me feel sad. It looked like a skeleton of its former self. I felt angry with the idiots who had caused so much hassle for so little reward. And as with the theft of my iPhone, almost a year ago now, I was plotting revenge and future traps for any future bicycle (part) thief. I think I might smear excrement all over the next saddle I get or put explosive charges inside the tyre. Or make the spokes out of spaghetti.
Of course I could just unclip my front wheel and my saddle every time I park it up, but I don't know if I can be bothered with that. I'd rather live in a world where people aren't needlessly petty like this. But I guess that maybe once upon a time, as a drunken young man, I might have done pointlessly hurtful things to people who had done nothing to me. I did once throw a stone through the window of a Christian book shop for example. Which was a pretty unpleasant thing to do.
It did make for a short sketch though, not as good a routine as the iPhone incident led to and I don't think I will make the money it will cost me to buy a wheel and a saddle (unless it turns out to be economical to buy a whole new bike). But I've had the bike for a while now and it wasn't expensive and I've got some good use out of it.
Hope you're enjoying sniffing on my saddle whoever took it. Though, as you'll find out if you come to the show and hear the exclusive routine in the first half that won't be in the podcast, you'll know I've been doing some horrible farts this week. So hopefully that will put you off your stroke.
But if you're the kind of person who wanks into a spinning wheel as you sniff a saddle then you might like that.
Once I was home, worried about the script and feeling a bit pissed off I was then sick in the back of my mouth.
Which was the perfect end to the day.
