It's the many people who still populate the outdoor area after 10 p.m. - here in Munich they are called "Schanigartens".

It's all the glasses clinking and hands banging on tabletops.

It's nice here in front of the small bar. But also quite loud.

On other days, Marco Vogl might have a toast.

Today he stands in front of the bar and lets out sentences like: "Mind the volume, please" or "Turn it down a bit".

He's here to keep things quiet.

Vogl is "Silencer".

These are people employed by bars, and sometimes restaurants, who make sure patrons drinking or smoking outside are quiet.

At least quiet enough that no neighbors complain.

Because that can lead to disputes, in case of doubt to trouble with the regulatory office and to court processes and, in the last step, perhaps even to the loss of the concession.

Noise in front of the door can - to put it bluntly - ruin a bar.

So that exactly that doesn't happen, there are silencers like Vogl.

On a warm Friday evening - a thunderstorm is brewing in the distance - he is standing in front of the "Salon Irkutsk", a bar in Munich's Maxvorstadt with an extensive vodka menu.

The two large universities in the Bavarian state capital are not far away.

But the salon is a bit isolated, on a narrow street lined with linden trees.

In other words, where there is not much going on at night.

Not a burden but a relief

Vogl is 33 years old and wears a blue shirt with flamingos printed on it, khaki shorts and gray sneakers.

He doesn't look stern and certainly not dangerous.

He doesn't want to be the bouncer type – broad arms, even broader back.

These are often the wrong ones.

"If you're just strict, if you're someone who doesn't feel like meeting people," says Vogl, "then this job isn't the right one for you."

Daniel Richter runs the "Salon Irkutsk".

He wears glasses, a beard and usually greets with a drawn out "Salut!".

Richter doesn't live far from the bar, which is why he has no interest in quarrels with the residents.

He says: "We've been around for eleven years, so it's not bad that we've been around for so long with the concept of the bar - and also with the neighbors."

Richter understands that the neighbors of the bar want it quiet.

"Everyone has their claim and their right to rest," says Richter.

"It's unacceptable that someone is still doing ollies with their skateboard in front of your window at 2 a.m. when you have to give a PowerPoint presentation to some Siemens board member the next morning." Richter therefore sees no burden in the Silencer , but a relief.

A kind of insurance that, at best, keeps complaints from him.

“It makes my work much more relaxed.

It's liberating," he says.

The Silencer is not a profession that you learn.

You need knowledge of human nature, assertiveness and a certain steadfastness, yes, but in the end you just do it.

At the "Salon Irkutsk" there are only specially commissioned silencers on Fridays and Saturdays.

During the week the bar staff checks the noise level.

Silencer in all major German cities

A silencer is typically paid for each night it is on duty.

Some make ends meet, standing in front of bars several times a week.

Others only silence incidentally, like Marco Vogl.

During the week he delivers packages on a cargo bike.

Silencer - or people who take on this activity but don't call themselves that - can be found in many German cities.

Hamburg, Berlin, Frankfurt.

Wherever there are popular bars in equally popular residential areas that attract a noise-sensitive and affluent clientele, there is a risk of conflict.

Because after a corona-related state of emergency in nightlife, two contradictory things meet: the rediscovered joy of partying among bar visitors.

And the silence to which local residents have become accustomed after two years of the pandemic.