A funny thing happened at two AM...

So, one of the things we didn't really consider when we first chose this apartment was its proximity to the Irish Pub (aptly described to Mr K by our Irish relocation agent as "nearly as Irish as you"). Our first thought was, "How convenient - a bar walking-distance away." However, two 14 CHF Jack and Cokes later, we decided we were more drinking-at-home types.

One factor of walking-distance-bar we had not considered was the scores of other people who also lived walking distance from the bar... and the fact that outrageously drunk people don't usually tend to walk home via a point A to point B route... they stumble and stutter. They take detours. They stop beneath our balcony (which, being four floors above them, they don't even notice) and engage in long, loud, nonsensical conversations. Because of the noise, we have to sleep with the big doors in our bedroom closed, despite the perfect temperature of the night air. The problem is drunk-chatter isn't the kind of white noise like traffic or normal conversation you can ignore - it's crashing and sporadic like thunder. It sneaks up on you, shattering dead-silence.

Mind you, this one small inconvenience is more than made up for by the general fabulousness of our apartment, but some days it gets a little annoying. Here's where we get to the funny part - apparently some of the neighbors are even more annoyed about the drunk-chatter than I am. Last week I watched one of the neighbors get into a screaming match with the drunks below, him telling them to shut up and go home, them drunkenly apologizing in French before all piling into a minivan and swerving their way out of the parking lot of the bar. That was funny, but not nearly as entertaining as what happened around two in the morning on Sunday.

I had wandered out on the porch to see what all the noise was and saw a group of eight or nine guys standing around, hollering at each other. My French isn't good enough to know if they were going to fight or just agreeing with each other, so I quickly lost interest and came back inside. Not two minutes later, I heard an angry roar coming from outside. I went back out on the balcony and saw all the guys looking up at an apartment a couple down from ours. On the pavement near the drunks was a huge splashmark that clearly originated from our neighbor's third floor balcony - fed up, this little old couple threw a massive bucket of cold water off the porch at the drunks! The guys started screaming and swearing in a variety of languages, but the neighbors didn't come out on their balcony or reply. It gets better - one of the guys started fumbling with his pants, either to flash them or to pee on something (classy). Mr K was in his office, organizing his camera stuff so I called him and he brought his super-mega-flash out on the porch. Just as the guy started to drop his pants, Mr K set off the flash (he didn't take a picture, he just used the flash) and we ducked down behind our balcony railing, hidden from view but still able to see just fine. Well, you would have thought lightening struck the way those guys scattered! One guy "bravely" continued shaking his fist in the general direction of the apartments, but one more flash quickened his pace. Within thirty seconds, they were gone and it was silent once more. Sweet dreams!