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@user16171
So,
I was sitting watching the tennis in the beer garden of The Albion pub on Goldsmiths Row, just down from Broadway market.
A couple roll up on a pair of folders (one Dahone, one Brompton) they tie them together with a liqorice lace and leave them leaning on the wall.
Tennis gets interesting.
All of a comotion and I turn around to see the feeble lock lying snipped on the floor and two scallies making good with their legs down the street on the two folders.
Calamity ensues.
I give chase, with the rest of the beer garden in close pursuit.
Long story short, I caught one of the fuckers!
The Dahone disappeared into the estate but I managed to get a hand on the seat post of the Brompton to take the fucker off.
He hit the floor and started running, I wasn't going to give chase anymore, we had the bike.
I'm glad he did run hard because the braying crowd of East London Lager men who also gave chase would've given him a fucking hiding.
One even told me that something like this happened a couple of years ago. They caught him, took all his clothes off wrote THIEF on his chest and made him walk through the estate naked.
Anyway, I returned to the pub with the Brompton and was treated to hero's welcome and free pints!
Pretty pleased with my self.