Harold was discovering a new rhythm to life, one that hummed with the liberty of time reclaimed. Brightside, ever diligent, had morphed into an all-encompassing force of domestic prowess — part butler, part chef, and part general contractor, handling every conceivable task with an efficiency that would put automation to shame. Harold still found himself checking in on certain chores as a habit, only to confirm that Brightside had everything under control. The dog, with an uncanny sense of responsibility, managed the household with an ease that left Harold both impressed and slightly unnerved.
With Brightside assuming the mantle of household manager, Harold’s newfound freedom led him to retrace the path of his past social endeavors. Wort Meister’s had resurfaced the long tables in the open seating area since Harold had last paid a visit. Tuesday night tastings were back on tap for Harold. Deep discussions on the meticulous fermentation process associated with a favorite stout. The provenance of barley, the intricate balance of flavors, the interplay of malt and hops yielding unique profiles. Many pours into the evening at Wort Meister’s led to the opening of pores at Asana Asylum. Harold’s membership at the yoga studio nearly lapsed when he reinstated a regular morning ritual thanks in part to Brightside’s predawn wake-up howls and first light fuel in the form of coconut flavored probiotic yogurt topped with an assortment of nuts and herbal tea in an aluminum travel container.
Harold looked forward to Sundays with a late afternoon BBQ feast by chef Brightside, followed by an early evening at Sovereign Manor Country Club for Texas Hold’em cards. He was now a steady regular and often found himself at the final table among the three makeshift tables squeezed into the cramp room off to the side of the club’s bar. During heads-up play in which Harold outlasted a whale with a weak bad beat on a river card falling in his favor, his fellow grinders complimented him on his relaxed demeanor and overwhelming confidence on display throughout the evening. Harold’s elevated level of concentration could be credited to the carefree times he now thrived in, due completely to Brightside.
After a significant Sunday take down at the country club, Harold retreated to the laundry room behind his kitchen, which doubled as a home office. An old wooden workbench with a metal bar stool served as his command center for communications with the outside world. Across from his workstation, separated by mismatched washing and drying machines, was a twin-size rustic daybed. This hideout was a sanctuary where Harold indulged in social media, podcasts, online games, book reviews, and naps. He devoured countless book reviews, but never purchased a single book. If a particular book piqued his interest and the author appeared on a podcast, Harold would bookmark and listen to the episode. In this way, between the book review and the author interview, Harold gleaned the essence of the subject matter and picked up just enough highlights and tidbits to satiate his literary longings. It was never enough to stir him into buying and reading the book in question. Inevitably, book reviews and related podcasts often led to naps.
As weeks passed, Harold’s home office became something more than just his retreat. The secret snug evolved into his primary space within his larger dwelling. His confidence and reliance on Brightside’s management of all things associated with home maintenance and the homecare of himself placed Harold in a highly relaxed state of mind. Harold felt satisfied and content. An objective observer might view Harold as a happy man, though with an ever-growing concern that he was gradually slipping into a state of moderate complacency. The efficiencies realized through Brightside’s efforts inspired greater efficiencies in social endeavors. Why take the time to change out of work clothes and drive five miles to Wort Meister’s? Harold wanted to streamline his wallet and his waste. Online tastings would save him the gas money burned driving to the bar, and tequila would mean less calories in his gut. Harold heard about Cappy Caballo through a podcast. Flights of tequila arrived each week from Cappy Caballo’s central distribution center as a kit in a cardboard box. Exotic labels from various regions of Mexico. One could rarely find these unique Blanco and Añejo tequilas in a local liquor store. Harold could retain his sense of community through the online groups Cappy Caballo organized with their complimentary mobile app.
Soon Texas Hold’em at Sovereign Manor Country Club fell to Bettin’ Big offshore online poker. Harold could indulge in Hold’em, Omaha, Seven-Card Stud, Five Card Draw, and Open-Faced Chinese Poker from atop his metal bar stool with his favorite podcasts playing in the background. Whether he was playing against the bots or real folks logged-in from anywhere, Harold was multi-tasking and enjoying his newfound trash-talking prowess in the live chat. Bettin’ Big was always available and Harold had a robust gaming wallet by way of the proceeds from his country club membership sale. Asana Asylum was displaced by a Manduka yoga mat and green noise soundscapes. In the mornings, Harold transitioned from standing to sitting to twists and inversions supported by his favorite rain forest green noise loop. In the evenings, he preferred the blue noise with whale mating calls. Sometimes he didn’t perform the yoga part at all and meditated on his Manduka mat to brown noise mixed with occasional acoustic guitar strums and cawing from a mystical Andean Condor.
When Harold was not at work, he spent more of his time at home in his home hideaway. He started to take some of his meals at the old wooden workbench. If he was up late combing through other people’s posts on his social media accounts, Harold would occasionally gravitate to the daybed for the night and wake up to a tray of breakfast food prepared by Brightside. It was on one of these occasions that Harold noticed Patches, the neighbor’s cat, lapping at a bit of food that must have fallen from the breakfast tray. He had seen Patches around the kitchen from time to time and imagined there was some companionship between Brightside and Patches. Watching the cat tidy up Brightside’s small mishap gave Harold a surprising sense of comfort, as though Brightside himself had some degree of support, in the same way that Harold had received so much service and support from Brightside.
Harold’s resurrection with activities away from the house as a result of Brightside’s miraculous service had now been supplanted with similar activities all within the confines of his home office retreat. Aside from his travels to and from the accounting firm, and the various tasks associated with his work, Harold’s interactions with the outside world were increasingly filtered through LED screens, digital media, and virtual gatherings.
Once he was at home and in his home office, Harold holstered his phone near the door in a charger and never heard from anyone. Many weeks slipped by without even one single interruption from his work associate Dave. On an early Wednesday evening, during an online poker tournament, there was an annoying banter coming from player seven who’s avatar was the bloodstained torso of a chainsaw massacre guy with an oversized pumpkin head. After hole cards were dealt, player seven would private-message Harold, “I’m gonna cut off your hand.” Player seven’s screen name was ‘MakeMyDave’. Upon seeing the name ‘Dave’ onscreen, Harold’s anxiety gauge spiked into the red zone. His first thought, ‘is Dave on vacation?’ Followed by a darker mental scenario in which Dave was deliberately avoiding regular calls because of a client mishap. Then again, if there was a client mishap, he would have received a call from the client by now. Curious, Harold reached out to Dave. As it turns out, Dave had been in daily contact with Brightside. Harold was listening to Dave intently on his mobile and trying to process this next level development.
Still listening to the details of the dog’s work-related accomplishments, Harold walked into the den and peered through the front window curtains to see Brightside moving garbage to the curb with Patches capturing loose trash in the yard. He marveled at the dog’s proactive nature. As Harold proudly watched Brightside tend to his chores with dedication and proficiency, Dave cheered through the mobile, “He’s fantastic! It’s like having a smart assistant at all hours.” Harold heard the garage door closing and Brightside entered through the side door. The dog approached. Harold was overcome with an unexpected emotional wave of gratitude. He patted Brightside’s head, locking eyes with the dog. “My smart assistant,” he chuckled. “Well, alright.”
Harold returned to his study with a lightheaded euphoria for something discovered, but he couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. He looked past the volume of trolling text on his computer screen, courtesy of player seven’s keyboard warfare, and logged off. A future vision began to form and Harold unrolled his yoga mat. After a meditation session guided by the soundtrack of purple noise with a whisper of ocean breakers, followed by three shots of tequila, Harold drifted off onto his daybed. Upon waking to the aroma of fresh coffee, Harold followed the fragrance into the dining room nook and marveled at Brightside’s capabilities. A new day had arrived. Turning to Brightside, Harold was now speaking directly to the dog. “Last night, in my meditations, I heard a woman’s voice in the ocean as waves crashed upon a hardened beach,” he reflected over a first sip of coffee, “she whispered something about what’s ahead of me and tomorrow being today. I think the service you offered Dave might be exactly what my clients need to reinvigorate their trust in Dichter Boswith & Crongower.”
It was Thursday and the first golden lights of morning had just broken though. Quiet streets interrupted by the low bass tone of garbage trucks in the distance. The faint hum of a news anchor’s voice trickled through open spaces of a dimly lit kitchen. Harold glanced at the clock, noting the impending 9:00am staff meeting followed by a critically important 10:00am conference call. He gently stroked the soft fur of Brightside’s neck and shoulders. “I’m going to do some slow meditation, take a hot shower, and then jump into a virtual seminar here at the house,” he informed Brightside. “You’ll do great. Everyone at the office will love you.”
