You look for a place to sit only to find out most of the tables don't have chairs by them. You can hardly hear your own thoughts over the noise.

Most of the commotion is coming from a table with at least twenty people. All of them look like they're in their mid twenties. From the way they dress, none of them look like they're from here. It looks like they've taken all the chairs for themselves at everyone else's expense.

One of them - a petite woman wearing a gaudy purple flower in her curly hair - says something you can't quite hear and suddenly they get up and take their places around the cafe.

A dandy with a slick haircut and a striped shirt picks up an empty flagon. He shouts "Catch!" as he hurls it across the room, nearly beaning a local patron in the head. His friend catches it and flashes a wry smile as he readies himself for another throw.

A dozen tosses later the flagon collides with the wall, shredding the wallpaper.

One of the waitstaff weaves through the tourists with a brush and pan in hand. As she tries to clean it up Lawrence swaggers close and kicks her over. His friends laugh.

Why isn't someone doing anything about it?

Wait, no.

A better question would be "why aren't you doing anything about it?"