Every apartment building has some characters. The good ones do, anyways.
And after living in Omaha for a few months, I’ve met some of the residents in my building. Most are kind and cool; others mean well. About a week ago, I met, or I should say, I heard of some characters here.
It was about 10:15 a.m. I was still sleeping; I worked until 3 a.m., probably fell asleep by 4:30 or so. The sun had fought through my closed blinds. And the noise had waltzed through my open window.
Most days, letting the typical noise – birds chirping – and the typical sun – gorgeous – was a good thing. Time to wake up. This day, I heard something different: “Go poop, Mylo. Go poop,” the older woman said.
I didn’t need to hear anymore; I knew who was in the courtyard that sits in the middle of my building, the courtyard that my bedroom window opens up to. It was the woman and her four weiner dogs, scampering around a grass square surrounded by brick walls. Some freedom.
Apparently, one of the dogs is named Mylo. And, apparently, Mylo was supposed to be pooping. He was, however, not pooping.
What also became apparent to me was that this woman had a little boy with her, in addition to the four weiner dogs. “Go poop, Mylo. Just go poop,” the boy said in his prepubescent high-pitched voice, a little whiny but mostly a little boyish.
The little boy must have thought Mylo didn’t hear his grandmother or mother.
I stared my ceiling, thinking this must be ending soon. I was still awfully tired from the previous night; I must not have gotten good sleep.
Then the chorus cranked up their request, the mom first alone, and then two together, telling poor Mylo to go poop already, as if poor Mylo could hear them, as if poor Mylo didn’t want the shouting to stop.
The chanting stopped a few minutes later, or I fell asleep to those chants (I wonder what I dreamed…)
But I went to back to sleep hoping Mylo would solve his apparent constipation and hoping Mylo’s owners would realize you don’t make demands to Mylo.
I also went back to bed realizing this building has more characters than I thought, Mylo, not included.