Back before Christmas, I met up with my friend Shayla to eat waffles from the Wafles and Dinges food truck and go Christmas shopping. I took the subway most of the way there, but I had my bike, and when I met up with her at 59th and 3rd (where the food truck was), in the confusion of saying hi to her and parking my bike and adjusting my clothing from biking-fresh to walking-around-the-city style, pulling my bike lights, and craving waffles and coffee, I left my (brand spankin’ new) bike helmet hanging from my handlebars, completely unsecured.

In the middle of the day.

Right on the street.

In New York City.

And I didn’t realize it for like four hours, until I was walking back to my bike. We wandered Bryant Park, then went down to Macy’s and looked at their windows, and I left her at Old Navy because I had to get to work. I texted her when I realized, and started walking faster, resigning myself to the fact that my helmet was gone, yanked by an opportunistic New Yorkers. I thought that maybe, just maybe, there was the slimmest chance that I had left it somewhere where the waffle people saw it and possibly they took custody of it, but really, that was my only glimmer of hope. There’s no way that anyone can leave a bike helmet hanging from their handlebars in New York City and have it still be there four hours later.

Except there can be, because I got back to my bike….and there was my helmet, waiting for me. Christmas miracle. One that I don’t expect will ever happen again, because that has to have used up pretty much all of my backlogged karma.