Marco sighed. “I know, I know. I just thought… it’s a bike.”
He sprinted across the ASU Tempe campus, backpack thumping, and skidded to a stop at the bike rack outside the MU. His silver Trek— The Silver Bullet , he called it—was still there. Good. But tucked under the wiper blade of his seat was a bright orange slip. asu bike registration
Marco laughed—half relief, half embarrassment. He’d dodged a $50 fine and spent weeks worrying over nothing. Marco sighed
Marco peeled the backing off. “That’s it?” His silver Trek— The Silver Bullet , he
Two months later, that decal saved him. His bike vanished from outside the SDFC. He filed a report with the ASU PD, gave them the registration number, and three days later, they found it—locked to a different rack, spray-painted black, but the serial number matched. The thief hadn’t noticed the green decal under the fresh paint.
“That’s it. Oh—and the first registration is free for students.”
He crouched down, read the engraved digits, and watched as Elena typed. She handed him a small green decal. “Stick this on the seat tube. Now ASU PD knows it’s yours. And if it’s ever taken, you’ve got a record.”
