The Rest Day Verdict

January third. We were only stopping in because the Tuesday session had run over and we were both a little cold and a little unwilling to split up yet. That is the honest reason we were in there at all.

The two people at the counter were mid-argument when we sat down. One of them, jacket, messenger bag, the particular energy of someone who runs before work, was explaining, with a lot of conviction, that a rest day is something you have to earn. You have to have put in enough that the rest means something. Otherwise it's just not exercising. The other one disagreed. Quietly at first, and then with the kind of patience that is actually not patience at all but something harder. They went back and forth for the entire time it took to order, wait, and collect two drinks.

Simone had a verdict within about forty-five seconds. I know because she turned back toward me with that specific expression that means she has already decided and is now watching me catch up. I was slower about it, which is the thing I kept thinking about afterward. Not whether the jacket-and-messenger-bag guy was right, he wasn't, or at least I don't think he was, but the fact that I had to sit with the argument for a while before I knew where I landed. Simone just knew. She usually does. I find that equal parts impressive and slightly annoying, and she is aware of both.

the table between us / the argument was not ours but we took it home anyway

We left thirty minutes after we'd planned to. I thought about those two strangers on the bus home. I still don't know what they decided, or if they did. But I have thought more about rest days this week than I probably would have otherwise, which feels like a fair trade for the price of a coffee and the lost half hour.

the moment it became our argument too