I’ve always wanted to buy a bike to call my own, to ride to and from work, early mornings to the green market and through Central Park, or after-dark, meandering through small West Village streets to clear my head. The thought, though, of leaving what would be another limb on the sidewalk, waiting to be stolen – thats what has stopped me from investing in one. A handful of friends have told me that every moment on the bike is worth the risk of getting their bike stolen. Many more have shared stories of how their first, second, third bikes have been hijacked, some only minutes after picking up dinner, others, hours after stopping by a birthday party. Every second is a risk. Now…