A second Valentine for the notblog, and with a second girl (not some threesome tonight, but a different girl to the one I was going out with last year… DO YOU SEE?)
We have decided to keep it pretty much low key. So out into Angel for a meal, possibly a curry, then snuggling up with some telly or something.
We go to Chapel Market and find our usual curry house. We mostly get takeaways, but tonight ewe decide to sit in. I’m scared of leaving a tip already.
We are sat down and I notice it’s unusually loud. It’s only when we have been sat, my coat is under the table and we are browsing the menus that I realise why it seems so loud. It’s because it is so loud. In the corner is a small band playing tradition Indian music. In this tiny tiny curry house they have a huge PA with the two HUGE speakers on sticks. The music is nice, but so loud that I can’t actually hear what emm is saying to me over the table.
I look round to notice that everyone else is sat near the window, i.e. furthest away from the music. when we came in, one of the waiters was about to sit us near the window, but the manager had over ridden this and now we were sat near the speakers.
Oh shit, he recognised me. He ‘s prob in the kitchen saying “The man who thinks he can dictate his own prices for my meals is in again. I will make him pay…shit in his curryâ€.
Luckily we found it a bit funny, making hurried snaps of conversations in between song. But by the end of the night we both had earaches.
But curried shite is surprisingly nice, especially if cooked with onions and a peshwari naan.