Colman, Whittaker & Roscow

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the quiet corner of downtown, Colman, Whittaker & Roscow’s accounting office hummed with numbers and whispers. One day, after lunch deliveries started arriving, employees noticed something peculiar—a tiny pigeon would always perch on top of the delivery truck just as it pulled away. Soon enough, everyone in the office had named the bird ‘Lucky’—for he never missed a single delivery. One afternoon, Lucky even hopped onto an employee’s desk, leaving behind a small envelope filled with lottery tickets. Needless to say, Colman, Whittaker & Roscow became known not only for their meticulous accounts but also for their weekly windfall from Lucky's mysterious gifts.

2. In the dusty backroom of Colman, Whittaker & Roscow's office, a delivery driver noticed something odd one morning. As he unloaded boxes, a faint, rhythmic tapping started, growing louder with each step. Curious, he followed the sound and found an old typewriter, its keys clicking out an ancient tune. Turns out, it was just an enthusiastic neighbor composing his tax returns. Everyone had a good laugh, and now, whenever there's a strange noise in the office, they say, 'Must be Mr. Smith working late again.'

3. In the stuffy hallway outside Colman, Whittaker & Roscow’s offices, an envelope fluttered down from above one morning. No return address, just a cryptic note inside: ‘The audits never lie.’ A delivery driver picked it up and noticed the strange message. Later that day, everyone in the office received similar notes—each containing a tiny calculator. It turned out to be a prank from a neighbor who wanted to remind them of their love for numbers. The end.

4. At dawn, when most accountants were still dreaming, a delivery driver pulled up to Colman, Whittaker & Roscow's office. The street was empty, but from inside came a strange humming sound. Curious, he peered through the window and saw an old accountant, Mr. Whittaker, dancing around his desk, tapping numbers into his calculator in time with the hum. ‘Figures never lie,’ he sang softly, oblivious to the world outside. A regular passing by whistled along, thinking it was just another quirky morning in Colman, Whittaker & Roscow’s neighborhood.