Marcus: Char!
Moooom: Charlene Elizabeth!
Daaaad: Charlene!
Christy-Anne: Did you?
Marcus: Lucky to get away, yes.
Charlene: Whomp whomp.
Marcus: I had to Make A Scene in the restaurant to get him to back off. It was just bad, you guys.
Moooom: Do you want us to come down? We could help with those curtains while we were there.
Marcus: I’mfine. I promise.
Moooom: You let us know if you need anything, Marc.
Marcus: I know, Mom. Thanks.
I stoppedin the hall and cocked my head.
Shit. I could hear Pollux barking from here. What was that fool dog up to? He’d never barked like this back at my parents’ place. The only thing in the building that were a threat were probably the other tenants and some mice.
Okay, and a roach or five.
I walked up the stairs, and there was another note.
302,
Please, I’m begging you. Do something about your dog. I don’t want to lodge a complaint with the owner. But I need to sleep and Poochie just keeps on keepin’ on. He’s also bothering Mrs. Benevedes downstairs, and she’s eighty-nine and has had enough of life’s shit already.
301
This was really a problem. I couldn’t lose this place. I’d gotten such a deal on it and it gave me the freedom to not have to share with two or three other guys. I glanced at the bottom and it was a picture of someone angrily dialing a phone with their hat on backward.
I was suddenly aware of two things: One my neighbor was a dude, not a woman. And two…
Two, he was a Cubs fan.
A Cubs fan in New York City? I was enough of an outlier by being one in Troy, but this was the city that two of every sports team: football, baseball, basketball—and three local hockey teams…but did the Islanders ever really count?
I stared at the baseball cap.
Now, this was even worse. My dog was alienating a potential ally in this city. Being Cubs fans in Mets/Yankees territory was always a dangerous proposition. Not as dangerous as being a BoSox fan, but still a risky proposition. If I could find someone to watch a game with me once in a while, this would be a major, major win.
Shit.Shit.
I ran into my apartment and found Pollux on the couch, quite literally barking at the wall.
What was going on with this animal?
“Get down. Pollux, get down. Stop barking at the wall, you dingbat. It’s a wall, you’ve seen them before!” I pulled him off the couch and put him on the ground. “You’ve walked into them!”
“Woof?” He cocked his head at me and I let out a sigh. Half basset hound, half golden retriever, all idiot.
I had to walk him, soon. I hadn’t ordered the emergency potty patch yet, so he had to go out. But I wanted to get the next note up and call a truce.Maybeif he met Pollux, the idiot would stop barking at his wall.
