BBQ! Fireworks! Urination!

It must be the 4th of July!

Less than a block from the apartment building is a large park, with baseball diamonds, tennis courts, cute ducks in a pond. Every 4th of July this park is THE PLACE for celebration.

We need only step 10 feet outside the front door in order to enjoy the festivities. Assuming we were able to get to our front door. The surrounding streets are littered with lawn chairs and coolers and children at play many hours before the fireworks start. Parking spots are at a premium, and I've considered investing in orange cones and making a little money. It's either faux valet parking, or the peddling of ear plugs. The reverberations of the fireworks is window-shattering and car alarms add their own sountrack to the spectacle. I worry about those ducks in the park.

Since we didn't stake out a spot on the landing early enough, all the good views were taken by the Shirtless Hick, See-through Boxer Shorts Man and other assorted characters. Instead we went into one of the bedrooms and craned our necks to watch from the window. The champagne colored ones are the prettiest.

This set of windows happens to face the back of a little hotel (the construction of which may result in a series of posts all its own). As we debated the quality of the view from the hotel parking lot, a man came running across.

Hmm.... a little intrigue.

Perhaps he agreed with us and wanted a better view of the sky? Wait, wait.... he just hopped on the ledge by the flower bed. He keeps looking behind him. Is he watching the fireworks? Ok, now he's scurrying over to the next wall. Maybe he's a burglar! He's going to break into that house! Oh.... no, he stopped. He's watching the show. Now he's looking around. Now he's.... unzipping his pants? He's unzipping his pants! Oh my god, he's going to pee, right next to my building, right on the little azalea bushes. Can't he see us up here? Should we rap on the window, get his attention?

Hold on, why am I still looking? Look at the pretty sky, all lit up and sparkly. Ack! I can see him from the corner of my eye. He's still trying to watch the show! He's practically done a 180. Dude, you must be dribbling on your shoe. Ok, finish closing your fly before you run back to your tailgate party. That just isn't sexy, running back through the parking lot with your belt and God knows what else flapping.

::sigh::
Despite our best attempts to avoid neighbor flesh, we were still accosted, and within our own home. Free speech, yes. Free willy, apparently.