My new flat has a roof terrace. I say roof terrace, it's more like a bit of flat roof you can walk on and hang your washing out on. (But, at my peril, because I live next to a Chippy/kebab shop and three doors down from a Chinese takeaway, so if I'm downwind, my clothes will smell of deep-fat fryers. Lovely! No wonder the er, ahem, 'larger ladies' love me!)
I use it mostly for smoking cigarettes on. From where I am, I can see where the Chinese takeaway's outside bog is, and so I can hear when one of the staff is having a piss. Lovely. I can also hear them arguing with each other in Cantonese quite often. It's a shame I don't understand Cantonese, as the rows sound very entertaining indeed. Maybe it's because of all the old Golden Harvest/Shaw Brothers kung-fu movies I watched in my formative years that I imagine they're insulting each other's fathers, or the younger one is shouting "WHY DID YOU KILL MY TEACHER?!! WHY?!WHY?!WHY?!WHY?!!" I know it's not really the case, but one of of them does look a bit like Sammo Hung, so you never know. They're more likely to be shouting "WHY'S THAT CHUBBY BASTARD UP THERE EVERY TIME I GO FOR A PISS?! WHY?!WHY?!WHY?!WHY?!"
Also, behind the flat is a Catholic primary school, so if I'm home during the day having a fag, I feel naughty as a teacher might be watching me and itching to shout at me. (Saying that though, I'm kinda used to having a primary school teacher shout at me. Did I ever tell you what my ex does for a living?) She's probably pointing at me through the windows of her classroom and saying to her class,"See that man over there in the Daredevil T-shirt with the cigarette? That's what will become of you if you don't study harder!" The thing is, she's probably right.