the conductor

The Conductor

The eleven o’clock light pours in through the blue blinds and filters softly through my eyelids. I awake slowly and shift my weight on the memory foam mattress, never regretting all the extra dough that I shelled out for the bed. Fumbling at the night stand, I find my watch and realize that I should probably head into work.

I shower quickly and decide on some light colored clothes as it’s probably hot as balls out side. A quick check of the temperature gauge on my iPhone confirms this notion—another day above 100.

Jesus Christ. What a city.

I drink a quick breakfast of orange juice and an energy bar, returning texts from friends and coworkers as I do so. Right before I head out the door, I decide to brush my teeth. My mouth still has the vague pine taste of gin in it, and by this point it is getting old. Afterward, I almost pour myself another glass of orange juice, but remembering that I had just brushed my teeth, I decide to pour it down the sink.

I take the steps to the ground floor of my apartment, still playing on my phone. I’m trying to get a hole of Tina to see if she wants to have lunch later this afternoon, or even dinner, at that place on 12 and Lamar that serves bad ass chicken sandwiches.

As I reach my car, I hit the unlock bottom and slide onto the leather seats, realizing that I’ll probably need to get it washed. The summer dust accumulates quickly around here, and it annoys me to see the black coat of the Audi not as shiny as it should be, as it could be.

Tina returns my text with a call as I’m stuck in traffic on the highway.

“Yo Tina! What’s up?”

“Oh you know…just working.”

I smile, knowing that Tina is too shy to really start a conversation. I crack a quick joke which loosens things up a bit, then shift the phone to my other hand as I turn on the car’s Bluetooth so I don’t have to deal with the phone while I’m driving.

“So, I was checking out that place on Lamar—Gardens—and they have a pretty badass menu. I’ve gotten their chicken before and it’s pretty good. Wanna hit it up for an early dinner? I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

Tina agrees and mentions that it can’t be too late in the afternoon. She has to go running, or to yoga or something-- I miss part of the conversation because some douche bag in front of me is going fifty in the left lane. I quickly shift and pass him on the right, trying to flip him off through the tinted windows.

“Alright, that sounds good.” Someone else is calling me, and the console screen tells me it’s my business partner.

“Alright Miss Tina, I’ve got to let ya go, but I’ll give you a buzz later tonight.”

I hang up and switch calls to Ryan who runs the company with me. He’s already in the office and tells me that we’ll be meeting with some investors later this afternoon. I let him know that I’m on my way but stuck in mid day ridiculous traffic.

“How’d the reviews go in New York?” I ask him, almost as an after thought.

“Really well. They loved the designs, especially John’s. They’d like to sign him on for more work in the upcoming year, but those clowns are so vague half the time that I feel like it the window will have to be so much larger than usual.”

“Have they drawn up any specific layouts yet?” I ask. I pass a broken down car in the medium and turn my head around to take a look. A Buick. Typical. God, I hated those cars.

I conclude my conversation with Ryan and turn on loud music to drown out the traffic surrounding me. I’ll probably be heading into the office later than I anticipated, but as I open the moon roof and the hot sun is nullified by the air conditioning, I try to think of weekend plans--maybe a show downtown. I think a French DJ is in the city, and will be performing at Mal Verde on Friday night. I call up Tronche to confirm.