Balkan Hosts

I have some bad news. Willie Soft Spot was stolen last night. I enjoyed a nice dinner with Francesco at the same Italian restaurant that Rhett and I frequented. When I walked outside, Willie was gone. I played back the situation in my head a hundred times. Did I forget to lock the bike? Surely not, it has become second nature to lock my bike much the way you lock your car door. I’m less likely to forget to lock the bike because it is such an ordeal. Forgetting to lock your car door is a pretty easy mistake to make. All you have to do is push a button, from anywhere. You don’t even have to be next to the car. The bike is different. You have to unlock the chain, take it off of the bike, wrap it around the back tire, and relock it. Regardless of how it happened, it happened. The good news is the office has an extra bike which I am now borrowing until I can find a suitable replacement for Willie. The part that bothers me is that it wasn’t my bike. It was Brent’s bike. He was nice enough to let me borrow it and I lost it. I feel like a jerk.

In the meantime I have a pretty nice ride. The seat is not as nice as Willie’s and the color isn’t as awesome but the new bike is an upgrade in all other respects.

A lighter note:

My coworker, Jelena, went to Bosnia and brought back some of the local red pepper sauce, homemade by her mother. I raved about it when we went to the Bosnian restaurant and she promised to bring back the recipe when she went to visit. She did me one better. Apparently it takes eight to ten hours to make this stuff. The time spent is evident.