Photo: Carol Rosegg I know exactly where I was on the night of November 9, 2016. There was an election-results viewing party at the Bell House in Gowanus. It was crowded, people were drinking beer, the mood was upbeat and casual — excited, even. Then they called Pennsylvania. Hours later, I was on the floor at a friend’s apartment, somehow engaged in a completely nonsexual wrestling match with his roommate. I realize that sounds bizarre, but I think our bodies were panicking even as our slightly tipsy brains — numb and clinging to hope — stumbled to catch up. The...