Ann stepped off the bus and looked up at the sky in awe. The skyscrapers strived to reach heaven like the tower of Babel from the bible. New York City, the most famous skyline in the world, was even more amazing then she imagined.
Ann had just stopped at the bottom of the bus, staring at the city sights and she was rudely pushed out of the way by the other disembarking passengers. She moved out of the way still staring as she collected her bags.
New York was both beautiful and ugly. The buildings were amazing, but they were also a dull gray and the curb stank of exhaust fumes. It was also the noisiest place she had ever been, car horns were constantly honking and brakes were squealing. Ann heard the word "fuck," three times in five minutes, mostly from taxi drivers yelling at one another. This certainly wasn't Idaho.
"Excuse me Miss, but would you happen to be a model?" said a deep voice.
Ann had just gotten her bags and turned towards the voice. A well dressed, young black man was sitting on a bench reading the Wall Street Journal. "Yes I am," she answered, then added, "Well actually no, but I'm looking to become a model or maybe an actress."
"My name's Latrell," he said standing up to shake her hand. The black man towered over her five feet eight inches by almost a foot. He was only about the tenth black person, she had ever seen. Latrell was both handsome and charming. He wore a well tailored suit beneath an open trench coat. He was young, probably only about twenty two.
Ann dropped her bag and shook his hand noticing how his large beefy hand completely engulfed her small dainty one. His handshake was firm, but gentle. "Ann, Ann Dutton," she introduced herself.
"I'm a photographer with the E&I modeling agency," he said handing her a card. "If your looking for work give me a call. We're always looking for a fresh face."
"Well sir, I'll consider it," said Ann grinning from ear to ear and knowing she'd be calling him Monday morning. "Thanks."
"Thank you," said Latrell. He tucked his newspaper under his arm and headed up the sidewalk.
The reigning Miss Teen Idaho watched him walk away for a few minutes before turning to hail a cab. Ann had always known she had what it takes to make it in the big city. She checked her watch, ten minutes off the bus and she had a job offer and she wouldn't even turn eighteen until tomorrow.
"If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere," she sang softly as a taxi pulled up to her.
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Two days later, Ann tried not to sound too anxious as she called the E&I modeling agency. Her confidence was shaken as it had taken all her first day to find an apartment, with rent three times higher then she had budgeted and it wasn't even half the size of one of the apartments on "Friends". Sunday, she had called her parents on her birthday and listened to her mom cry about losing her little girl for over two hours. She knew her phone bill would be sky high, plus she couldn't help but run up her credit card on her first trip to Macy's. She wasn't overly worried, soon the money would be rolling in. Miss Teen Idaho wasn't all that talented, but her looks had always coasted her through life. She had blown the talent competition, but had garnered a perfect score during the bathing suit competition.
"E&I, how may I direct your call?" said a nasally female voice on the other end of the phone.
"Yes, Ann Dutton calling for Latrell."
"Please hold."
Ann waited on hold, surprised there was no music on the line while she waited. Finally, after about five minutes, she heard Latrell's deep voice on the other end. "Ann I'm so glad you called. I described you to the boss and he's definitely interested in meeting you. Would you be free for a meeting tomorrow?
"Yes, anytime," said Ann barely able to contain herself.
"Great. Come to the address on the business card at noon and bring your portfolio. bye."
Ann listened to the click as Latrell hung up. She didn't have a portfolio yet. She hung up the phone and smiled. She would just have smile and bat her eyes a little more at the interview and they would be fools if they didn't hire her.
Ann spent the rest of the day sightseeing and treated herself to a complete makeover, getting her hair and nails done. She also couldn't help but run up her credit card a little more at some of the classy stores on Fifth Ave.
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The taxi pulled up to an old warehouse near the docks. Ann got out and paid the driver, then looked at the decrepit building. She looked at the address on the card for the third time since the cab pulled up here. There was no doubt this was the right place.
She walked around to the side of the building and noticed stairs leading up to a door. She walked up the stairs and knocked. She saw Latrell through the window and waved at him.
"Ann thanks for coming," said Latrell opening the door and swallowing up her little hand in his again. "Come on in, I'll show you around and take you to see Tyrone."
Ann followed Latrell into the building. For the most part it was dirty and deserted with a few rooms cleaned up. She passed an empty photography studio and wondered where all the people were. "This isn't exactly what I expected," she said to the black man.
"We just moved into this building. It'll take us a while to get it up to speed," said Latrell holding open a door to a small waiting room with an empty desk.
A tired looking woman came out of a door by the desk. She was only about thirty, but looked older and she wore a scandelously short skirt and too much makeup. "Tyrone will see you now," said the same nasally voice that she had spoken to yesterday.
Latrell nodded and entered the office. The woman had some white yogurt or pudding dripping out of the corner of her mouth and Ann gestured with her finger towards her own mouth. The woman understood and her tongue flickered out and slurped up the white stuff. Ann smiled and followed Latrell into the room. This room was the best decorated so far with a garish carpet, a book case filled with unlabeled video tapes, and a large desk with a computer on it. A giant black man sat at the desk. He was very black and very ugly with a broad face, flat nose, and big lips. He was bigger then Latrell, but not as tall.
"Tyrone this is Ann Dutton," said Latrell.
