Nice work Gestalt. Damn, that must have felt good.
In general, I don't hold cops in high regard. But I do have to share a happy tale about one of Delano, California's finest. Delano is a sh_thole little town in the Central Valley. No offense to anybody who lives or grew up (like me) in such a place. It's just a sh_thole, that's all. Anyway, my mom was driving through Delano last summer after a tough couple of weeks. She had her Trek touring bike on the rear rack, and I was helping her by remote control with directions and places to stay. Like I said, she'd had a tough couple of weeks. Also, my mom is cheap. Hates to spend money. So I plugged "Delano" and "Roach Hotel" into the Google and called her with directions to the nicest-looking hotel in her price range.
She checks in, goes to sleep. In the morning I get a call. "My bike was stolen last night." She sounds anguished. Totally deflated.
First of all, I feel awful, 'cause I told her where to go. Next, I'm thinking, why in the hell did you leave your bike outside a cheap hotel in a sh_thole town in the central valley? But I don't say anything, 'cause, like I said, she'd had a hard couple of weeks. So I tell her maybe she should file a police report.
"No I just want to get out of this place."
Okay, I say, but don't get on the highway without getting breakfast first. I do some stuff with the Google, and find a cool sounding restaurant, Perko's cafe. I tell her to go there and eat. I mean, she was in bad shape before and now some lowlife had stolen her bike. She really loved that bike. It almost killed her to buy it, because as I mentioned she's a cheapskate.
She goes to Perko's and I call the cops in Delano, tell them what's up. I figure, a little crapbox town like that can't have more than two or three bike thieves, and the cops probably know who they are. The dispatcher says my mom can make a statement.
I say, "Great, she's at Perko's. You know where that is?"
"Oh, yeah," she says. "The officer will meet her there."
So now I figure I've done all I can, so I go out surfing. I'm sitting in the lineup thinking about how bad my mom must feel right now, and I decide what the hell. I'm gonna buy her a new Trek. $1,400 bucks I don't have but she's my mom for Chrissakes, and she loved that bike and can't afford a new one.
I get out of the water, and my mom calls right then. "I got my bike back!" she says.
A Delano police officer, bless his heart, went up to Perko's, took my mom's statement and had a cuppa joe, then went and pulled the security tape from the the lot next to the hotel. The thief was on the tape, and the cop knew who he was. Delano only has two or three bike thieves. The cop went straight to the lowlife and got the bike back.
So, the moral of the story is that yeah, most cops don't give two sh_ts about you and your stolen bike. But there's at least one cop in Delano California who helped an old lady out when she was down. And that makes me feel pretty good about people out in Delano paying their taxes. And if your bike gets jacked, what the hell. Report it. Because we can't all count on getting the chance to steal our bike back at a burger joint a year after it was stolen.