Undiplomatic community

It was about 7.30 pm, the girls were down, dinner was in the over, and I was taking my chance to do the crossword, when all of a sudden a very loud car horn sounded outside.  Our flat is on a small side road, but at the end of the road is a set of lights to which few cars respond with alacrity, so horns aren't unusual. Typically I don't concern myself with car horns. Whilst people tooting at night is rude, as long as it doesn't go on, I don't really care. However, the hooting went on and on.
Turns out it wasn't someone hooting a codger at the lights. Half turned into the car park of our building, right below my daughter's window, was a shiny new car with a CD plate, hooting like crazy. Some poor diplomat couldn't get between a parked car and a parked scooter a space a bus could have gone through, so for over two minutes they leant on the car horn.
When I tapped on the window a look of fear crossed her face, the sort of fear and concern I've experienced myself in developing countries when hawkers and randoms tap on the window of your car. It's an understandable reaction in places where car jackings are common and the social divide is kept safely on the outside of a compound. However, in a city like Geneva, where law has ruled with some competency for over 500 years now, it revealed much about the poor woman's experiences in her homeland.  After I told her she's woken my daughter I took pity on her and offered to help her through the space.
At that exact moment, the mother from the ground floor flat appeared, presumably to find out what was waking up her little boy. She helpfully moved her car and the situation was resolved, but my thoughts on the whole scene could be summed up by saying; don't try to claim diplomatic immunity from irate parents, none will be granted.