Bicycle theft is nothing new in Vancouver, and neither is the numerous postings of stolen goods on Craigslist.
According to a post on Reddit, the victim’s friend found her friend’s stolen bike on Craigslist and arranged to meet the guy. The friend asked to take it for a “test ride” and just never stopped pedalling and the bike was returned to the rightful owner.
Here is a re-write from Reddit:
So, it went down like this:
[My] bike gets stolen yesterday and early in the AM, my girl Chantalle was like, “Yo, I think I see your bike for sale on Craig’s list,” so I call the guy up and make arrangements to meet him in half an hour at the McDonald’s on Terminal Street.
Yeah, like let’s pick a super sketchy place. That is reassuring, I judge. That franchise is at the site of last November’s chilling robbery/murder spree, which itself is located in a rather hostile part of town – just the place a bike thief would call home!
I spend the next hour or so visualizing my plan, and eventually I meet him at the rendezvous. I just sweetly play dumb, and he attempts the role of a prolific biking enthusiast, launching into numerous anecdotes to convince me of the history he and this bike share. At a glance, however, I notice the strip of duct tape affixing a small plastic piece that detached when I let the bike hit the pavement too hard in front of my mother’s house two years ago. I notice the long, pronounced scratch where my brother tested the hardness of a corundum specimen from his mineral collection, much to my exasperation. I notice the dried, red mud about the rim of the rear tire, landed there ereyesterday when I took a riparian trail through the woods after a swift estival thunderstorm.
“Are you interested in buying, yo?” he asked.
Interrupted in my memory, I paused and continued on with the stratagem. “Well, I would like to take it for a test drive first to see if there are any kinks.”
“Of course!” he exclaimed seemingly amicably, “Just don’t run off with it!” With that final stipulation he let out an insincere chuckle, and I responded with my own feigned laughter.
“Don’t you worry. I won’t” As I mounted my bike and turned my back to him, I couldn’t help but smirk. However, slight panic soon set in at the completion of my plan as I questioned what this thief might do. I pedaled fast and hard away from the McDonalds, yet I made it home safely and received “no beats or thumpings,” as Chantalle and I like to joke.
To the patient and valiant reader still with me now, I would let you know that his name is Derek and his number is 555-5555. If you feel compelled to give him his just deserts, then perhaps you can arrange your own meeting at McDonalds and give him a happy meal he won’t forget.
In a conversation on Facebook, the owner was asked how she knew it was her bike.
Because on the handle where the tape attached. One of the silver pieces had fallen out. And I had replaced it with a black piece. When I saw that I was sure. Plus the guy took off like a scared chicken. He knew it was stolen. I got on it and started to ride and got on my phone ASAP. He knew