A small thing.

Although it seemed like a big thing last night.

It was 11.30 and the music coming from the flat above me was
so loud, the ceiling was shaking.
I needed to sleep, but was worried about going upstairs and complaining.
Posh boys living in mummy and daddy's flat in Edinburgh don't listen
to oiks like me. But I went up and banged on the door as loud as I could.

Eventually a tiny boy came to the door and stepped into the hallway.
He was clearly a bit pissed, but ever so polite.
I explained (in a controlled manner) that it was a Monday night
and he was taking the piss.
He shook my hand, told me his name, apologised and said he would get rid
of his friends. Which he did, in 10 mins.

Fuck. Result. Perhaps I was slightly less controlled than I thought.