Why getting robbed sucks

I'm currently a student in Provo, Utah at a private religious university with strict moral and ethical standards. The area has, deservingly or not, become known as "happy valley." But I happen to know that in this valley of happiness you're still living in the real world. It's easy to forget this at times, but every once in a while something happens that brings you back to reality: Somebody stole my bike seat!

My wife and I only have one car, so naturally I have taken to cycling as a means of transportation. For some time I kept the bike inside our apartment, but as it was always in the way I took it outside and chained it up in the bike rack outside our apartment. This afternoon I took the garbage out and realized something was different about the bike, and then it hit me, there was no seat. I unchained the bike and took it back in the apartment and started voicing my frustration with my wife, and I even called my dad. But in the end it was to no avail, I still had no bike seat. That is when I realized, getting robbed produces a frustration that isn't easily overcome. Initially you think, "where are they? I wonder if I can find them and get my (blank) back (in this case bike seat)." However, after cooling off you realize tracking the perpetrators down is not likely. Then you, or me in this case, demonstrate anger through words and expletives, or substitutes thereof. Following this verbal attack on the vanished enemy you, or once again I, attempt to rationally understand why someone would do something like this to me of all people.

However, I realized and so will you, there is no explanation. You don't know why they took your bike seat, and for now you just have to ride standing up, and that is why getting robbed sucks.