Crowe

I examined the contact company card he gave me just before he got out of my cab and walked up the marble steps of the Crowe Corporation building. A place I've never been. I don't really have an idea what goes on there. The slick explained it, but just breif. The card is sitting up on the dash. Jacoby Row, that was his name. I was thinking about what he had told me all the way back to the stand.
"A branch?"
"I've never seen anyone add up numbers like that so calcutively. You've never worked with numbers professionally?"
"No sir."
The next part escapes my mind, I tried to follow along with what he was telling me, but he was using his god damn corporate lingo and it just went in one ear and out the other. He asked me to meet him at that building at twelve sharp. I presume for an interview...Monday he said.
 

Walking down the sidewalk in always really uncomfortable. Especially in this city. I generally try to keep my head down and keep going, but sometimes my curiositry encourages me to observe the freakshow happening everywhere around me. If you know where to look in New York, you'll find things I can guarantee you will only find in New York.
Today was particularly hot. Hotter than usual anyways. I was outside the stand, taking the fourteenth drag of my third last cigarette. Five beads of sweat were trickling down my neck and I wasn't even moving a muscle. That's when you know it's god damn hot. It was the kind of hot that seeps into your brain and boils it to the the point where something like tripping over your shoelace can send you into a fury. I didn't have to glance far to the left to see an impatient mother belt her pre-school daughter over her little blonde head with a flimsy leather wallet. That's all it can take to feel disturbed in this city. Just a slight glance to the left on a hot day.

The next morning I had a problem in the bathroom. I couldn't get anything out. I stood there with my feet freezing beaneath me on the ceramic floor. I stood there for what felt like an hour, but was actually nine minutes and... eight seconds. That's what my Felix the cat tick-tock clock. It hurt like a b*****d too.

My memory keeps floating back to the image of that black Felix cat. It was all backwards in my mind.The super sticious and haunting imagery mixed with the characters likable nature...it was all backwards. I had never really focused on that clock before like I was now. For some reason, it just decided to stick. It was kind of scary was I started thinking about it. Something evil mixed with a likable, maybe decietful nature. Wolf in sheeps clothing kind of thing. It was scary to me.

I played with my keyes in my pocket all the way to down the complete eighty-seven flight staircase. I slicked back my rememnents of what people call mid-bladness. I'm not completely hateful towards it. I've seen b******s a lot worse off than me.
I waited at my bus stop, which is just outside my building. Cabbies never take cabs.
The bus was uncleanly. The floor looked gross, and there was a cigarette butt under the seat across from me. Who in the hell was smoking on the bus?! I just wanted this pissy bus ride to end.
One-twenty fourth street was just up ahead, so I pulled for the driver to stop. I jingled the tune to House of the Rising Sun with my keyes when I approached the marble steps of the Crow Corproation building. It was Monday, eleven fifty-five a.m.