We started texting, and I at first didn't even save his name in my phone. I was afraid that Nolan would find it and see that I had been texting some random guy; I always deleted conversations and didn't save anything. I only recognized him by the numeric digits, and at first, I didn't even remember his name.
We would occasionally meet up at a relatively country-ish, divey bar near the club after I finished my shift. We were on Glass 2 of House Merlot.
"Wait, wait, wait, so you also ride a motorcycle? That takes some guts," Tor said.
"No, you know what takes guts? Dancing when you're on your period," I said. He laughed and shook his head.
"I'm serious! You try to dance and shake your ass when you're afraid blood is going to start trickling down your leg or your tampon string is going to swing loose from its tucked-away position. Just try." I swallowed more wine, giving him the feminist test: would he freak out by talk of menstrual blood?