Rideus Interruptus

Today was "Ride Home from Work Day." Or it was supposed to be. I had changed clothes and was mentally preparing to face a cold ride home as I leaned over the lock on my bike and twisted the numbers to line up the correct combination. But it did not open. I changed one of the numbers just to see if I had happened to forget the combination I had been using for two months. Nope, that didn't work either. I then spent the next ten minutes frantically twisting the dials and pulling to see if I could get lucky because luck was what I was reduced to relying on. Disappointed and perturbed, I called my daughter and asked her to come pick me up, still not sure what I was going to do with the bike that was secured to a rack with a spool of Kevlar.

On the ride home I got the 800 number for Bell (thanks Jim!) and prepared to try and explain myself to a faceless voice, hoping there might be some solution short of cutting the lock off the bike. To Bell's credit, the customer service lady was polite and apologized when she informed me there was no other solution than getting some bolt cutters and violently releasing my bike to freedom. At one point we were disconnected and she actually called me back. Why? Because she wanted to send me a new lock, gratis, to try to make up for the inconvenience. She also said I held the distinction of being the first person to ever call her with that exact problem. A day of highs and lows (but aren't they all?).

Now I need to figure out how I am going to lock my bike while I wait on the replacement lock to arrive. But I'll deal with that later, right after American Idol...