#66 CITIBIKE MYSTERY
One afternoon, I count five Citibikes in the northwest corner where the druggies, jobless, and sometimes homeless hang out.
Wait, how? A yearly membership is a pricey $185. This does not compute.
A biker looking for a handout chats me up.
He: “I just got out of prison doing five years for armed robbery.”
Am I supposed to be threatened or impressed?
Me: “Yeah, ok. so how did you get the Citibike?”
Then things get vague and he smiles.
He: "Maybe people don’t lock them right when they put them back.”
I know that’s the not the whole story, but that’s all I get.
He gets a dollar for talking to me.
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