This is what it sounds like when pigeons cry
My bedroom has a window that faces out into the narrow gap between our building and the building next to us. Somewhere in the fire escape out there, some pigeons have made a nest. I imagine it’s a pretty ideal spot to settle down a raise a brood, what with it being sheltered from the wind and strategically positioned near the exhaust vent for the deep frier in the bar below.
One of the pigeons, that I’ve taken the liberty of naming “Pearl”, is especially vocal and seems to enjoy passing the time by loudly imitating a woman in the throes of an orgasm. It’s pretty remarkable. She usually starts with some normal pigeon-cooing sounds, but quickly builds into an explicit tizzy. “Hoo. Hoo! HOOOOO! HURBLE! HOOOO!” You get the picture.
Pearl does this for hours, sounding more like an insatiable prostitute than a bird. I actually find it pretty funny, but not everyone in our building is quite as accepting of Pearl’s social habits. There are two girls that live in the apartment above us and one of them is home most of the day. I don’t know her name, but for the purposes of this story, we’ll call her “Carl” to keep things clear.
Aside from the name thing, I’ve become quite familiar with Carl for a number of reasons. One, she wears high heels or some sort of Dutch wooden shoes and clods around the apartment like a horse. Two, she likes to blast this one cheesy country love song over and over again, singing along at the top of her lungs. (I’m really not complaining — I’ve learned a lot from her about not embarrassing myself within the illusion of privacy that apartments afford) Finally, Carl goes ABSOLUTELY NUTS every time Pearl acts up outside her window. She starts yelling and pounding the windows, but generally this does nothing to quell Pearl’s noise-making. If anything, it probably encourages Pearl to go more, as Carl’s outbursts are themselves pretty entertaining.
The best part is that as Pearl continues “Hurbling”, Carl goes crazier and crazier! It’s tremendous! She starts pounding louder and her screams become more deranged and frantic. If Pearl is so rude as to continue at this point, Carl resorts to her secret, doomsday weapon. She takes a bucket of water and dumps it on poor Pearl! I’d feel bad if it wasn’t all so surreal, and Pearl’s always okay. She’s always back up, stretching her vocal chords within a half-hour or so, which appears to be enough time for Carl to get a fucking grip.
