There I was at Starbucks, listening to my Machine Learning lecture, when a man in his early 30’s remarks upon my operating system (I use Ubuntu). He starts telling me how he personally uses Fedora, so we start talking about how Ubuntu’s popularity is great because now even big corporations are building software that can run on Linux platforms.

A few minutes later I go to plug my charger unto the wall, and he warns to be careful because his computer is also plugged in but it automatically shuts off if the power plug is disconnected. He tells me that he would lose all of his day’s work if that happened.

People at Starbucks keep running over my power cable, disconnecting it from the wall. I get very annoyed because it’s not like I am obstructing anyone’s path, and I really need to charge my computer. The guy asks me to look over his computer as he goes to CVS to buy food for the little dog that’s with him. I happily ablidge.

He comes back and begins working intensively on his computer until all of a sudden some dude walks over my power cord and unplugs it. As he tries to plug it back in, the other guy walks over and tries to keep his power cord plugged in, except it gets plugged out anyway because the other guy is so messy. A small feud ensues, where this “alpha”-bro doesn’t even apologize (even though he is unaware he just ruined another person’s day) so my friend (his name is Tek) starts getting really mad at him. They verbally altercate and they start shouting even though they are barely a few inches from each other. The Starbucks manager notices it and interjects asking everyone to calm down.

Tek freaks out. He walks out of the Starbucks and smokes a cigarette. You would expect him to be angry but there is something far worse hidden behind his eyes. It’s a look I recognize because I sometimes have it too, albeit to a far lower degree of intensity: he is having an anxiety episode. He walks back in, frantically trying to recover his lost work on the computer, alternating between anger and worry. That’s when his little dog walks over.

Tek’s facial expression completely changes; he smiles for the first time. He begins to pet his little dog (Buddy is its name). He visibly appears more relaxed, so he turns to me and starts explaining how he probably won’t be able to eat today because he won’t be able to finish his work. He tells me his a contractor and he does all sorts of software-related work to keep himself afloat. I decide to sit next to him and find out more.

The rude dude from earlier keeps giving Tek bad looks, but I try to redirect Tek’s attention to our conversation. I find out he is from Asheville, NC. Even though I don’t inquire, he explains to me that the pills he is about to ingest are for prescribed for anxiety. The VA put him on anxiety medication after he came back from his tour. He tells me the pills are only short-term fixes, and that he has trouble controlling his temperment around people, and the he knows he overreacts. He starts apologizing profusily because he thinks I mistakenly believed myself to be the target of his anger. I reassure him everything is ok. He begins to get angry again because the man sitting to my right keeps looking over in judgement. I ask Tek about Buddy.

Buddy is 8 years old. Tek and Buddy have been friends for many years now. Buddy truly understands Tek. Buddy shows Tek patience when most people don’t. Buddy, unlike everyone else in Tek’s life, has been there for him. Buddy appears to bring out Tek’s sensitive side, which is why Tek tells me that he is “no longer alone in fighting his monsters”. He is referring to not just his PTSD, but also to his opiate addiction.

He has been clean for almost a year now. I compliment him, because I know it’s really hard to beat the beast after being chained to it for over a decade. He said he doesn’t like people anymore, because they don’t like him. He has learned to avoid bad thoughts by listening to physics lectures, because they force him to concentrate on nothing but the material, thus keeping negative spyrals away.

He thanks me for talking to him, and for redirecting his attention away from the people at the Starbucks looking at him and towards our own little world within our conversation. We exchange emails and he invites me to come to the co-working space he goes to in SF: Amazon’s Loft.

I offer to buy him lunch at Subway, but he says he can’t today because he has to leave in 20 minutes. He thanks me again, and we part ways.