Bagging William for the Night

It's 9:40pm on a Friday night in Paris. There's music blaring from an apartment across the street, people shouting, and a guy doing wheelies on a VeloLib bike I suspect he isn't paying for.
This is the "bike parking" the checkin woman at the hostel said I could use.
The moveable chain link fence is a particularly fanciful touch.
I've only used it once, at Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof, the nifty bike cover that makes William "disappear", and then I realised the Germans didn't care.
So tonight I used the cover again, (those Brompton people thought of everything), and Wm is now spending the evening as an unusually shaped piece of luggage next to the sink in my room.
There is no way in hell I plan to leave my bike overnight on a street in Paris, and expect to find anything, except a cable lock snipped in two, the next morning.