The newest move-ins to our apartment building are a group of young men of approximately college age (we can't tell how many, since we've met like four different ones, but can't tell if they all live there or just hang out). The various boxes and bags they like to leave outside AFTER trash pick-up has revealed their love of domestic brews and the fact they bought a broom and a Clorox mop ONLY two weeks after moving in. Hopefully, the giant neon Budweiser sign hanging outside their door should be coming down soon-- per management's orders.
This weekend we awoke from a nap to discover their favorite drinking activity: apparently, even a visit from their parents can't hinder the enjoyment of shooting inanimate objects with a BB gun off their back porch. Saturday it was a cardboard Corona box.
Then, this morning, I heard some stange popping noises coming from outside... I looked out the window to see that they've moved on from cardboard to a large glass liquor bottle (and I don't think they are practicing moderation, since they haven't yet hit it.)
"What?! These men can't be drunk! It's only nine o'clock in the morning!" I think that's only true in Jerusalem.
Update (9:11 a.m.): The bottle is gone. I think they gave up. I hope so, because I didn't hear them hit it. It's a good thing, too, since we have a LOT of young kids that live in this building and if there were broken glass in the yard it could be dangerous. They all play back there in the afternoons. I'll have to go check it out to make sure. (Did I mention that to add distance they put the box/bottle behind a different apartment-- one where a five year-old boy lives?)