The Mrs had her bike nicked this evening. Right in front of her. Cheeky bastid. She pulls up in a cab at the station (different story), to collect her bike and ride home. Whilst paying the driver she notices this guy messing with her bike parked on the platform, poor lass thinks, “Oh, it’s fallen over and he’s picking it up for me”, then reality hits and she realises he’s nicking it. So, she jumps out of the cab, yelling “Hey that’s my bike..leave it alone (etc..)”. The skellum looks over and tells her to “F*ck off”, jumps on the bike and rides away.
She couldn’t give chase, as she was on the other side of the tracks, and no point once he’s on the bike, but the cabby was keen, he switched the meter off, and went looking, but by the time the had gotten over the track crossing the tealeaf and bike were gone. Boo.
Yeah, there’s CCTV on the platform, but she saw him anyway, and the description is, as you can imagine, classic crimewatch (hoody etc.)
I’ll have to keep a good eye out for a gangly yoof on a 15″ WSD Spesh Hardrock, in metallic lilac. Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.
