Monday


    7/28/25


    Waking up in the morning was truly arduous. I barely got 4 hours of sleep, yet I felt strangely awake, but also drunk on exhaustion. I remember Harley dragging me from the living room into bed at some ungodly hour, and that''s just about it. The night was a void, yet my dreams were full of vague hope. A childhood relived, a first kiss, newly formative years. Nothing concrete enough to recount, but the feelings were there, and I let them carry me into the week. I ate my quick breakfast and headed into the office as usual.


    The trip to the GWS office in Red Hook was longer than usual, it took an hour to get through the closure of the A train tunnel and onto the F, but that was really just the start of my troubles for the day. I got into the office 32 minutes late, and walked into a last-minute town hall meeting where the CEO announced the third series of layoffs this year.


    Yitzy, our 76-year-old balding CEO and his entire suite of out of touch execs, sat there numbly on screen while he monologued for what felt like hours about fiscal issues and promised growth through vague AI development. Typical. The meeting ended with 14 coworkers gone, tears shed, and numerous complaints from R&D. Thankfully, I was spared, along with most of my department and friends in the company.


    By the end of the day I had gotten about 4 hours of work "done", in reality I spent most of it metaphorically banging my head against the wall that was the bugs in my code. I was able to push one patch that optimized server efficiency by 1% and only crashed in rare circumstances. Most of the issues in the code were characteristically unresolved. Between the constant disgruntled chatter of my colleagues, difficult bugs, and noise in my brain, I just couldn''t keep myself in line long enough to form more than five coherent thoughts. Needless to say, it wasn''t the best day, and today''s mental health quickly went from optimistic to downright pissed off. Thankfully, the trains were running decently by the time I went home.


    ----


    I get home and shout out "Hey babe, it''s me" as I walk through the door and start putting my keys and bag down. I''m wearing my usual work outfit;


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.A plain top and black jeans with docs. I spot Harley sitting on the couch watching some random show on TV.


    "Hey", she responds demurely.


    "All good baby?, it''s been a long day for me too."


    She looks at me over the couch briefly and replies, "yeah I''m fine." before turning back to her show.


    I''ve known Harley long enough to know her tells, by the time I get home from work she usually has at least 2 stories to excitedly recall, and is seldom curt unless something is wrong. Needless to say, something clearly happened. I walk over and sit on the couch, "What''s wrong, baby?". I say as I review her. She''s in her usual home clothes, with the exception of an uncharacteristic black hoodie over them. That''s definitely weird, we keep the apartment warm.


    "Had a run-in with some teenagers." She replies, finally looking up at me. Her cheek bruised.


    "God fucking damn it babe, what happened, where, when?"


    "On the way home with the groceries, they called me a fag, and followed me. I fought them off with my taser, but they got a few hits in. I''m fine."


    "Fuck, good thing you had it on you, did you tell anyone? Are you okay?" I respond, unzipping her hoodie and looking her over. She didn''t protest. She had a few bruises on her torso, but nothing serious.


    "No, it''s fine." She responds curtly.


    "Do you remember their faces, or where you were when it happened?"


    "Yeah" she says, looking back at her show.


    "Okay good, do you wanna file a report?"


    She looks at me and back down as she thinks for a while, eventually getting her thoughts together and responding, "yeah".


    ----


    It took the cops about an hour to get to our place, and another 2 hours to get the report from Harley. I stayed with her the whole time, silently reassuring her that it was okay and they could help. Neither of us believed it, of course, but we might as well try. The cops were initially dismissive as usual but eventually came about with some convincing. Harley spent the hours monotonous and timid, which was understandable. By the time we were done, it was nearly midnight, and we were both exhausted in every sense of the word. Three bottles of wine were quickly drunk, and we passed out in bed holding each other for sanity. This wasn''t the first time we''ve been through this, but maybe it could be the last.