Thursday 9 November 1989

This entry forms the last one for a while.  Again, it’s short, pithy and I think bang on the money.  Of course, there’s a story to go with it, so let’s just quote the entry, then I’ll share…

Had my bike nicked by some Scouse Bandit!*

What’s not to comment on eh?  I was a student from Shropshire, studying in Liverpool.  In actual fact, it could have been any other large city, but I had chosen Liverpool. Prior to leaving for University way back in September 1988, I had lived a most sheltered existence.

This made me as naive as naive could be.  I was also quite materialistic in my outlook on life. This combination then, of my naivety and materialism, lead me to chain up my brand new bike to some railings outside the entrance to the Civil Engineering Department on this Thursday morning.

I attended my Thursday morning lectures, then headed off to the pub for a liquid lunch, after which I rolled back for the afternoon’s lecture.  Having imbibed I was a little obfuscated then, when I saw a gap in the railings between a couple of other bikes where mine had been previously.  My bike was there, wasn’t it? Hang on, does this mean that someone has nicked it? If so how so… I chained it up.

Of course the mystery was soon solved.  The chattering classes were in the common room and of course they had seen a white van pull up, two blokes jump out replete with bolt cutters and… well, you can work out the rest.

I remember the interview with the policeman at the station when I reported it missing.  He didn’t actually say it, but the inference and his body language was “Why did you bring a brand new bike into the city and expect to keep it for more than a couple of weeks you thick yokel?!”

*When I say Scouse bandit, I’m not exactly making an unfounded general accusation am I?  I mean, this was in the centre of Liverpool.  If it had been in Newcastle, then the term used would have been Geordie Bandit.  You. Get. My. Point.

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