My friends had been smart and brought locks for their bikes. Fuck. My brother had told me to bring a lock for his bike. I was eager to leave and had thrown the bike in the car and left for the ferry.

I’ll buy a lock when I get there.

I rode past the bar and noticed a small shack with a dark fenced in yard. I could hear music inside.

He’s gonna kill me. This is a terrible place to hide a bike. It’s a nice bike too. Fuck, this shack might even be connected to the bar? It can’t be. I need to get inside. It isn’t.

I’ll tell the people inside the shack what I’m doing. Either they’ll tell me to fuck off or be amused by it.

The members of Ripe were crowded into this house preparing to go on stage. They were amused.

‘Terrible spot for a bike’ one of them yells through a smile.