JOSHUAJENKINSis unremarkable

Last night at roughly nine-thirty Pacific Daylight Time my bicycle was stolen from my front porch in Northeast Portland. The circumstances and the general concept of the crime have been frustrating me since it happened, so I figured I'd get it out in writing as a personal reminder to this experience.

The Circumstance

Shortly after nine o'clock I return home from a bike ride. I leave my bike in the corner of my porch. The porch is set back and up by about ten steps and is enclosed by a small set of railing. It is not an inviting porch to steal from (note: I am not a thief so I may be mistaken).

Sitting in plain view of the bike in my living room less than ten feet away I see a couple of strange faces on the porch. As I'm going through my limited mental database of people I know in Portland I see them take off down the steps with my bike. Luckily I'm already wearing shoes and a jacket and I bolt out the door after them.

Once down the steps and on the street chasing after them as fast as my chicken legs will carry me I notice that there's about six of these low life's scattering away from me. Unfortunately Portland blocks are extremely small so by the time I'd run two blocks after the bike the thief's friends had dispersed on to as many as four streets.

Sadly for me the bike burglar was faster on my bike than I am on foot, so he got away. I don't plan to ever see the bike again as the Policeman I spoke to mentioned that this was his sixth reported stolen bike that day plus an additional stolen police bike.

The General Concept

What's really bothering me beyond the general loss of my only, and fairly expensive, bicycle is the general concept of stealing. The group of thieves were probably late teens or early twenties, so not too terribly far off from my age, which bothers me.

I've devoted a considerable amount of time and effort to get myself to a place where I'm financially secure at a young age. It bothers me that despite my commitment to earning a decent living there are people out there who simply act as vulture's and profit off of my—and others'—hard work.

These people probably go home at night and don't feel remorse in the slightest for what they've done. It's just what they do and they're okay with it, just another day at work. This is what drives me nuts. How can you not feel absolutely horrible for stealing something substantial from someone? I honestly don't know and I'm sickened by it.

Things can be replaced, but it seems pointless knowing that there will always be assholes out there just waiting to make an easy buck. I'm thoroughly disappointed in a lot of things today.

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