I WENT TO MY LOCAL INDIAN RESTAURANT AND.....
Thirty years ago I went to my local Indian restaurant, it
was the opening night.
At the time I didn’t live locally nor did I expect to still
be using the same restaurant
some thirty years later.
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I went to my local Indian restaurant, there was a group of
deaf people feverously talking together using sign language. The room was full
of conversation, but no sound.
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When I first went into my local Indian restaurant I was the
only bloke who would go there and eat alone. Over the years others have
followed my example. I felt I made a mark for single mans lib. I still await
the women to follow suit
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An elderly man who I thought was a school teacher always
came with his wife and preceded to verbally brow beat her all evening. She
never fought back. I always wondered why not?
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Two elderly ladies came into my local Indian restaurant,
they looked as if they might have been gay. I hope they were lovers, to be
friends would be too dull.
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A group of musicians from Albania came into my local Indian
restaurant, how interesting was that. They didn’t come back. They were on a
world tour.
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A very large man came into my local Indian restaurant with
his girl friend. They proceeded to have a row, whereupon she exclaimed.
“I’m pregnant with his child and normally he’s a very nice
man.”
Sadly he started to eat the wine glasses and was eventually
evicted by nine police officers. I found out the next day that he beat up his
girlfriend and the taxi driver who was unlucky enough to take them home.
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I used to go into my local Indian restaurant many years ago
with my then girlfriend. She was slightly taller than me, slightly younger than
me, and much more attractive than me. She was also black and at the time very
much in love with me. So, why was everyone looking at us?
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I’ve been going into my local Indian restaurant for over
thirty years. I should have started taking notes years ago.
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The first time I went to my local Indian restaurant and
needed a wee and the mens loo was engaged, I sneaked into the ladies. What a
revelation, it was immaculate. I had become used to the gents which were
frequently like a pig sty.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant having just seen the
film Oscar, based on the life of Oscar Wilde. Tragic how they destroyed such a
talented man and his only crime as they saw it. “The love that dare not speak
it’s name.”
Although perhaps they really punished him for his arrogance
rather than his sexual persuasion.
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A group of very odd looking people came into my local Indian
restaurant. They looked like a sad dating agency group. Whatever they were,
they were perfectly behaved and left.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant prior to the Iraq war. The waiters
asked me if I thought the Americans would bomb Iraq . I said “yes they would bomb
the shit out of the place.” They didn’t believe me and seemed to have some miss
guided belief that Saddam Hussein was some how invincible. I wondered why.
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I went to my local Indian restaurant, I’d just finished
playing the butler in The Importance of Being Earnest at Wimbledon Theatre.
Although the run had finished I was still on a high, it was a good evening.
That’s why we are prepared to work for nothing. Who else would do that.
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The dullest man in the world came into my local Indian
restaurant. I believe he was an accountant, which perhaps explained it. He
later came in with an even duller friend. What had I done to deserve that.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant, two young people
were sharing an ice cream. They were feeding each other. How romantic.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant and two men came in
discussing their children and school. They discussed a school play where one of
the boys had performed an amazing dance number and how brilliant it was. What
progress, not that many years ago he would have been called a bloody poof.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant and while I was there
I wrote another childrens story, it didn’t get published. It made some children
who read it happy and kept me fairly sane while I was writing it. Everything in
life has a purpose.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant with my mother who
had come to stay with me for a year after my father’s death. She was well into
her seventies and this was the first time she’d been in an Indian restaurant,
Sad what a sheltered life my mum and dad had led.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant, it was busy and as
usual I used the loo. The seat was covered in piss splashes. How come most men
can find a vagina and insert their penis in this comparatively small orifice.
Yet with a target as large as a toilet bowl they miss every time. After using
the loo I took some toilet paper and carefully wiped the seat. I hate doing
this but don’t want the next person in to think it was me who made the mess.
Why am I the only person who ever does this.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant after watching a
television programme about Muslim women complaining that they were not allowed
to prey in the Mosque with the men. I was going to ask the Muslim waiters why
this was but I knew all they would come up with would be a load of bollocks.
Sometimes I haven’t the energy to try to have a sensible discussion with them.
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Many years ago I went into my local Indian restaurant and
sat and chain smoked all night, I was a nicotine addict. I believe in freedom
so don’t feel the need to apologise.
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Recently I went into my local Indian restaurant having given
up smoking for five years. The couple on the table next to me smoked all night.
As an ex eighty Molborough a day man I felt it would be a little hypocritical
to complain.
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I went into my local Indian restaurant, sometimes I get
depressed, I’m sure I’m affected by the moon. It’s like I’m on the verge of
tears, but being alone with my thoughts for the evening sometimes pulls me out
of it. Sometimes it doesn’t.
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Two older men came into my local Indian restaurant. One dressed in a very expensive and smart suit, the other in scruffy trousers and a jumper. One had a full curry with all the trimmings and the other had an omelette and asked for brown sauce. Oddly the sophisticated looking one in the smart suit had the omelette with brown sauce.
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A girl and two boys came into my local Indian restaurant.
They moaned during the course of the meal and refused to pay at the end. They
became somewhat aggressive and as the only customer left I tried to assist the
waiters in getting payment, only for the two boys to pick on me. My bravado was
backed up by the fact that one of the waiters had called the police in a voice
loud enough for them to hear. Eventually they got bored made the girl pay and
left. I was a little upset that the police hadn’t arrived sooner. I was even
more upset when the waiter informed me he hadn’t really called the police he
was just pretending. I was somewhat lost for words.
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I have been using my local Indian restaurant for over thirty years. The food is excellent but the service is abysmal especially for those of us who have been going in for some years. Sadly familiarity breeds contempt.
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I don’t think the décor in my local Indian restaurant has
changed since opening night, over thirty years ago.
It won’t take many more years for it to become a listed
building.
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A large group of men, about twenty or more came into my
local Indian restaurant. How strange to see such a large group of men with no women
with them. The first time they came in they told my friend they were a
religious group and later a rugby team. Although to look at them they looked a
little old for rugby. Perhaps they were vicars who played in a seniors rugby
team. I suppose they would always win having God on their side.
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I have been using my local Indian restaurant for over thirty
years. The food is excellent but the service is abysmal especially for those of
us who have been going in for some years. Sadly familiarity breeds contempt.
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