Sunday 16 August 2015

I WENT TO MY LOCAL INDIAN RESTAURANT AND......

                        



                               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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When I moved away from my local Indian restaurant some five years ago there were only two or three of the regular locals who came to eat virtually every night. We did point out to the owner that it was us who were keeping the place going, one fellow even going as far as to suggest we might be entitled to a tad more respect in the service department. Sadly our comments fell on deaf ears. Not long after I moved I was passing and to my surprise the restaurant was closed, perhaps there was a truth in our comments about keeping the place going. It's a shame it closed and never made it as a Listed Building.

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