So, Sylvia's dying.
My bike.
Apparently one crash was more than she could take. She now has a bent front wheel that can barely scrape through the bent bars that attach to the (recently realigned) handlebars, and sounds like a gasping, dying weasel if I actually manage to get her going. I tried to ride her to the gym and in the last leg I was so slow I got outstripped by a pedestrian. I also no longer needed to go to the gym.
Riding on the back of Laia's bike into town, we passed a parked car that I had apparently hit on Friday night. At the risk of divulging too many details about said car and possibly implicating myself in some sort of criminal damage case, I will only say this - I would have felt so bad if my bike had come off perfectly fine from the incident. No wonder Sylvia has been rendered useless. Fixing her will probably cost more than I bought her for in the first place.
So there you are. Scraping the bottom of the barrel and finding the cheapest, most rusted bike I could in Utrecht (that hadn't been stolen) in order to save some moolah is going to end up costing me way more in the long run than the amount I saved in the short run.
I just hope the car owner didn't see me examining their car, nor Bonnie capitalising on the situation and taking a photo. Real life proof that perpetrators always return to the scene of the crime.
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