After dinner at Toro Bravo, I go to leave, and find your stupid bike lock around the brake cable of my bike. I try for a half hour to disassemble my brakes to liberate my bike, but GEE, I didn't think to carry a *complete tool kit* around my neck tonight. (A summer dress with no pockets? What was I thinking?).

My options are:

A) Lock your bike to mine, take a cab home, and offer to free your bike in the morning in exchange for my cab fare;

B) Call a locksmith, have him clip your stupid U-lock, and leave your bike to get stolen; or

C) Wait for you.

I decide to be merciful and opt for Option C, even though I'm pretty confident you're at the concert next door. I place a note on your bike (and lock my bike to yours, so you'll come find me) and wait for 2.5 HOURS inside Toro Bravo. (At least *that* could have been worse.)

When you finally show up, you're a complete dickwad and even deny at first that your bike was ever locked to mine. You throw $5 at me "for the drink I had to have while I was waiting" and demand that I accept your apology. You continue to act as if you've been wildly inconvenienced, because it took you almost a *whole minute* to find me and get me to remove my lock. (Never mind that I'd been waiting for nearly 3 hours).

Your rudeness shocks everyone who had been trying to help and keep me company as I waited. In addition to Toro Bravo, the other three businesses nearby had also been trying to track you down. Everyone was eager to find out who the mystery idiot was, but no one expected him to be as rude and full of bluster as you. The staff felt so bad, they even picked up my tab after you stormed out.

PS: You're way too old and sweaty to have been at that techno concert at the Wonder Ballroom tonight. What were YOU thinking?