When I asked her how she quit her job she said,
“I told them I needed time to study for my MCAT, so they finally decided to fire me for my tattoos.”
In a quarter life crises she gave up the office job for a basement bike shop, business casual for spandex, the water cooler for the velodrome.
She is the human manifestation of her bike; fast, inviting and neon pink. She talks in a language of stem, gear and seat post, I can hardly keep up.
She is what every guy hopes for when he calls up the repair department.
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