I got back to my room about 11pm. Tired, but happy, after a really great dinner with much loved colleagues who really should be called friends. It's great fun to have fine food, wine, and conversation that ranges from the academic, the operational work issues, to what the kids are doing and how the rennovations are progressing. They're passionate about what they do, some people in my line of work. But I digress.
I had one of those rooms with a connecting door. It was locked. Next door, a man is playing the guitar and singing. Occasionally he plays a harmonica. I had to listen hard to figure out if there was just one person or a whole band in there. He's good. He's really good. At midnight I bang on the door, and he stops playing immediately.
The next night, I came home about 10pm. I'm really tired now. I've been working hard, and days of enjoying Melbourne's fine food and wine is catching up with me. My neighbour is home already, and playing his guitar again. Sounds like he is learning a new song. Maybe he's writing it. Maybe he's a famous musician.
I don't want to be a grumpy old bag, cos really, it's very pleasant. I push a note under the connecting door. "Dear neighbour, you make beautiful music, but I have to work tomorrow. Please stop at midnight".
A note comes under the door from his side. "I'm sorry, sometimes I forget I'm in a hotel. I'll stop now".
I replied. "Nah, don't stop, I've got a good book, midnight is fine".
He pushed a reply back. A clean white page with a big smiley face. He played me a song or two more. The one he was working on, and a new one.
I hope he had a nice neighbour the next night.