My neighbor Danny came up to my apartment the other night and was very worked up about something. He was clearly perturbed and could not wait to vent.
“You hear that fucking bird? All last summer that little fuck kept me awake at night. I’m gonna get him this year!”
I went outside and listened. I heard some faint chirping. Hardly the cacophony he was complaining of.
“Well yes I hear him, but I thought birds slept at night”
“Not this little bastard! LISTEN!”
Danny then produced a digital recorder and started playing back the bird sound that he had captured from his balcony. I’m starting to see where this is going and got amused. We then perused about the internet seeking information about the various types of birds that made noise at night. I found a website which had several bird calls. As we listened, Danny incessantly played back his recording. This went back and forth for quite some time. Eventually we concluded that the bird in question was indeed a mockingbird.
He kept repeating the sound and fury grew in his eyes. Things suddenly took a dark turn. Danny planned on killing said bird. He went in to elaborate plans as to how he was going get rid of the menacing creature. Initially, he thought a rifle with a laser scope would do the trick. His plan was to capture the birds attention with some sort of ‘mockingbird mating call’ device. Since we didn’t have one, the digital recording would have to suffice. Danny was convinced the mockingbird was in fact mocking him for living in our apartment building. A place as loyal readers know is Sterile House, a mark of shame.
We then proceeded to the parking lot intent on finding the hapless creature. Danny started blasting the recorded bird call. It was 2am at this point. He walked around the parking lot in his classic frantic style. After a few minutes, the mockingbird answered. Danny then went in to full blown hunting mode seeking out his prey. He kept the looping the sound and the bird kept responding. We then found its location, a bush located right underneath his apartment window.
In his thick Long Island accent he proudly exclaimed “HAHA I GOTCHA YA NUMBAH BIRD! YOU ARE DONE!!”
He stuck his head in the bush that the mockingbird called home. He shook it and yelled. Despite all of his efforts, this did not work. Frustrated, Danny then thought it might be a good idea to pour boiling water and / or piss on the area from his balcony. I reminded him that we lived in a multi-user dwelling and that it might not be a good idea. He then looked for a stick. I helped him find one and he ripped in to the bush with a violent rage. The bird flew away.
Danny cheered in victory and I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. We headed back upstairs and had a quick joke and a smoke. Danny seemed quite content with his conquest over nature and went back home. I then settled down on my sofa and fired up the TV.
5 minutes later I heard the Mockingbird.