Score One For The Internet

After a few hours and a few moments digging around the interwebs, there was some justice in Brooklyn.

So they drove me a few blocks away from the restaurant, and as I walked up there, I texted Maura, and she called the dude. And then a few minutes later he he rode up on a yellow bike, this big, tattoo-covered, dreadlocked dude who I so would not have wanted to face alone. I looked at the bike, and he had attempted to fix one of the things that was broken, but the other part, which I had carefully described to the police officers, was still unfixed, which was the first thing he pointed out to me, as if he were being an honest salesman. I almost started laughing. It was definitely my bike!

And then the cops all converged on the guy, and they said, “Can we talk to you over here?” to him which sounds very nice but I assure you was not really said as a question. And then he was over against the Peter Luger’s wall with all the cops and I was alone with my bike. And then they were asking him all these questions, and he was like, “I do not steal bikes, I buy them from this guy,” and then within a minute they had extracted that he was a junkie, that he bought these bikes from another junkie, and even how much junk he consumed a day. Detective work in action! They cuffed him and put him in the squad car.