And I lived worry-free until Janet came into the house. Janet's a full-figured gal and a full-sized bike. So she lives unsecured in the front hall. She's the first thing you see when you come in. You couldn't miss her even if you wanted to.
I also have a new neighbor, and he orders take-out. Lots of it. And he buzzes the delivery guys in to meet him on the 3rd floor. I've spoken to him about not letting them in, but he seems to think meeting them on the stairs is improvement enough.
Like all New Yorkers, I have a love-hate relationship with these delivery guys. On the one hand, they offer a convenience for which New York City is known - delivery of almost anything around the clock. As a cyclist (and pedestrian) I consider them a menace: they ride on the sidewalk, on the wrong side of the street; they ride fast at night with no lights. They take terrible chances, and yes they do get injured. But they also do injury - a lot. And they don't stop for anybody.
They are hard working though, no question about that. And here's something else I've learned from being in a bike store when they came in: they know everything there is to know about bikes. Bikes are their livelihood (and many of them have cast wistful glances at Lucille and offered admiring compliments; they know a Brompton when they see one). They know bike components, they know bike brands. And for sure they know street value.
That's not to say any of these guys would walk off with Janet. But they sure as hell would notice her (and notice that she's not secured). And in that community - like all communities - word gets around.
The obvious solution is to find a way to secure her in the hallway. This would not be easy, as there is no readily available place for a lock to attach. It would add time and inconvenience to every ride. And would it even work? If there's anything I know about thievery - the internet being a prime and ever evolving example - it's that as soon as you build a better mouse trap, it's just a matter of time before you get a smarter mouse.
I will have another talk with my neighbor and see if I can press upon him the importance of meeting deliveries at the front door. That would go a long way towards easing my mind. But even with that, I have a feeling worry goes hand in hand with bike ownership here.
I was told by a long-time cyclist when I first began riding, "As long as you own a bike, you will be fixing a bike."
I'm afraid the corollary to this slogan would be, "As long as you have a bike, you will be worrying about a bike."