Brown

I’m walking up Fitzroy Street, just outside the ATC, with my headphones on, listening to my iPod. A guy (I’ll say a haggard looking guy) is walking down towards me with his little dog on a leash.

As he meets me, his mouth moves because he’s speaking. I can’t hear him until I remove the phones, at which point I hear the end of his question:

Him: … named Brown?

Me: Pardon?

Him: Some guy named Brown.

At this point, I notice the mucus dripping from his nose. From that moment on, I cannot stop looking at it drip. Ugh.

After a confusing pause:

Me: Are you looking for someone?

Him: Brown. For a job.

Me: Richard Brown? Are you looking for City Hall?

Him: Yeah. I was told if you want a job in this town, you gotta go talk to this Brown fellow.

Me: I don’t know about that, but City Hall is (I tell him the directions)

Off he walks.

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