So Jan disappeared sometime yesterday, leaving his dirty dishes behind as usual. He came back around 3:30 AM, I was still awake. Through the door of my room, he told me he was having several people over for a nachspiel and that it was okay with Harriet (which I seriously doubt).
My beer in the fridge? Did not survive.
It is impossible to get beer on a sunday, and no beer is sold tomorrow as it's election day. I bought that beer specifically to drink tomorrow, because I remember wanting beer after I had voted last time there was an election, and not being able to. I thought I'd say "screw you" to inconvenient rules, and drink beer on the election day.
I should have just gotten out of bed right there and then and removed my beer, but I was dead tired.
So I talked to the dregs downstairs, Jan and a friend, and demanded my beer. They thought it possible and said they'd get me a replacement for the pint can of Lysholmer Double Ice (common beer), but of course they can't do anything about that Russian beer I got at Vinmonopolet until Tuesday at the earliest, I guess.
I'm betting I never see any beer at all, at least not by the time I want it.
If only everyone was asleep and sprawled all over the place, I could take incriminating photos.
Jan and his friend are both visibly stoned; instead of trying to shift the blame onto me for leaving my beer in the fridge, he's all "chill, we'll work it out" - ha. He should smoke less tobacco and more weed.
Don't tell anyone, but I have one bottle of beer I didn't put in the fridge. Something Belgian (I think) that I've never tried before. So there! I am going to drink beer on the election day. Going to hide it behind all my food in the fridge once the villain of the story leaves.
Oh yeah, and they were loud, playing their techno/trance music completely devoid of any melody, the kind you have to be stoned to enjoy (at least that's my assumption. I've never been stoned). I had to use my earplugs, but I could still hear some, not to mention feel the vibrations.
Did manage to fall asleep at one point, because I dreamt I went downstairs to check on my beer, and saw my can opened (and in the villain's hand), but in my dream my Russian beer had proven too exotic for them and had been spared.
Could I report them to the police for theft? Do they even care about petty theft of two beers?
ETA: Incriminating photos. ^_^
This noise contraption on the dinner table..
There were far more bottles on the table a while ago, when there were people there.
Oh what a lovely kitchen.
WTF? Someone made tea?!
And that's my rooibush tea - thankfully they didn't touch the Tea my dad brought back to me from China, just the regular stuff I buy here in town.
Rented speaker, I presume.
Full ashtray on the living room table. Busted!
The kitchen sink. Ciggarrette butts, snus, lemon slices, discarded packaging of meat and garlic, and.. raisins?
No evidence of drugs, but this is enough to get Harriet-san to yell at him.