Many many years ago I lived in western Paris, almost in the countryside. A lovely top half of a late 19thC house which had just been renovated, like a country cottage in town. It had a small balcony looking out over the inside walled garden of the neighbours below.
Close friends with my then toddler god-daughter came to stay, arriving at 8.45. Upstairs they came and there she was,running over the stripped floors (some rugs). Just after 9pm, there was a loud bang-bang down on the front door so I head downstairs to see who it was.
One next door neighbour in his pyjamas, irate, about the noise of my god-daughter's feet. I was gobsmacked.....ok 11 or 12 but 9pm?
Next morning came around, summer months by the way, my bed room next to the balcony. The neighbours' Irish setter goes outside for his morning constitution and starts up with his barking at 5.45am. (I have no issue with dogs by the way). They had played right into my doors.
I get out of bed, down the stairs, out into the street, up to their garden door and rang on the bell.
Monsieur comes to the door and opens it. His mouth drops open. In French, I tell him to "Shut that fecking dog up, it's not even 6am." I turned on my heels and walked back inside.
I was stark-bollocck naked.
Tuesday comes around and I walk back through the town to shop for the evening and strolled on to the house. Monsieur sees me and comes running out, "Je suis désolé, Monsieur, je suis désolé," (I am sorry). End of issue and we got on really well after that.