Spent a portion of my weekend wondering how to convey to my upstairs neighbour that he and his mates were really taking the p1ss noise wise. Not just the music, guffawing and juvenile antics, but also the TALKING IN THE FUCKING CORRIDOR. By the time I was bothered enough to go and say anything, i knew that they would be totally hammered and I was afraid that the long-matured rage might burst through the surface, egged on by my complete inability to speak French when I’m angry. “Excusez, errr, huffffff, sbbbbbbbeeeer, huffffffff’. They might have snickered at this, once their initial reaction of “Oh, it’s alright, it’s us, we’re making the noise and you can see from our heightened state of ego and pleasure that it’s very much worth it” had been conveyed. Then, just possibly, I might have stopped my linguistic back-firing and done something physical to express my dismay. Like grabbing one of their heads and licking it, then barking like a vicious dog. Comedy value that image I know, but think about it – your neighbour is willing to traverse physical and animal boundaries if you wind him up too much. Do you start remembering your manners ? I think I’d make the effort. Especially if I thought that my neighbour’s next move might be curling one out under my doormat, then marking his territory with a ring of p1ss and perhaps a speckling of j1zz……..
As a footnote, you may have noticed that French people don’t generally drink to get drunk, in the sense that we and other nationalities do. There is a very good reason for this – the arrogance grows to a RIDICULOUS degree. Well, in the fair town of Bordeaux anyway.
Strange when the kids become the man, but then these are the things that happen when you got to hold down a job, keep the good lady happy and stomp the yoot dem. Dem kids got no respect.