Maternity Leave Read Free Page B

much about wine; Matt designated Bennigan’s as a favorite restaurant; Martin went to a hair salon instead of a six dollar barber; John saved a movie stub as a souvenir because “it will be cool to show our kids someday if we get married;” Jarred had a “
W”
bumper sticker; Aaron went to tanning beds; Scott believed in horoscopes; Ed designated half of his refrigerator to be a reptarium for snakes; Brian preferred cats to dogs; Alex had a vanity license plate; Dave sent emails with winking smiley faces or LOL; Seth wore a bracelet and necklace; Joel shaved his chest and arm hair; Tyler used the phrase “this guac is delish,”; Brett walked only on his tiptoes; Sean drove exactly the speed limit in the left lane on the highway; Vinny used a Band-Aid for a paper cut; Jeff parked diagonally so that no one could park near his precious car. I feel like I’m forgetting a lot. The only guy to ever dump me was James and he did so because I suck at Trivial Pursuit. Good riddance, I’m better off without that judgmental asshole.
    My friends and I went to the Dubliner, an Irish pub that sells beer by the liter. I generally drink two beers at the Dubliner, a reasonable number, but a bit excessive when you look at the size of a two-liter bottle of soda. While I was at the bar ordering my second liter, I overheard a guy quoting
Tommy Boy
. It was like hearing a Shakespearian sonnet. I turned around. He was tall, no ring on the left hand, two days beard growth. A little on the hairy side, but attractive enough. I finished the
Tommy Boy
quote for him. “Try association. Like uh…let’s say the average person uses ten percent of their brain. How much do you use? One and a half percent. The rest is clogged with malted hops and bong resin.”
    “Hi, I’m Paul.”
    “Jenna, nice to meet you. I also do
Happy Gilmore, Groundhog Day,
and
Super Troopers
.”
    “Wow, I’ve always wanted to date the female equivalent of Rainman.”
    “You found her,” I said. “I was about to buy a drink, but it would be so much more meaningful if you bought it for me.”
    Paul put my beer on his tab and we walked outside. From the conversation, I garnered that he recently moved from Minnesota to Tampa to take a job as an engineer. At some point during the night, I mentioned cycling. Paul told me that he was a cyclist too, though he stopped riding in college to play varsity rugby, the only sport more marginalized in the U.S. than cycling. At the end of the night, we exchanged numbers and gave each other an awkward hug and kiss on the cheek goodbye. We planned to go for a ride at some point the next week. It was the first time in years that I wasn’t dreading a date.
    I was a bit hung-over at the start of the road race the next morning. Fortunately, I had raced like this before and knew what to expect. The important thing is to sweat out the booze while hydrating. Once the fluids are exchanged, the carbohydrates from the beer kick in and the end of the race is smooth sailing.
    Brenda lined up next to me and spoke her first words ever directed at me.
    “You smell like a brewery.”
    She looked even shorter standing next to me than on the bike, where she is by far the worst draft of the
peloton
, as riding behind her is not much different than riding directly in the wind. I’m five-two and not used to looking down on anyone. Brenda couldn’t be more than four-eleven, though more filled out and muscular than me, especially in her upper body. The reason I climb so well is that my quads and hamstrings are as big as tree trunks, but the rest of me is a rail. It’s disproportionate, but perfect for having enough muscle strength to push my slight body against gravity. Brenda is built like a sprinter, but on a smaller scale. Her tiny but powerful stature is how she is able to muscle through bikes that are inches apart, and accelerate for the win.
    I had hoped her first words to me would be something pleasant like, “Hello,” but given her hostile