The Curry House

I became hungry for that hot greasy curry that my friends suspected to have caused me to become poisoned, but I think it was that pastie I reheated one too many times. Never the less, like any curry addict, I had to get it in ma' guts - no matter what.

My house mate wanted fast food too, although she refuses to eat from that take away on Beaufort Street. I took her order for a kebab from the place next door to the curry house - an up-market joint that had just opened to reap the money from hungry pub goers from across the road.

I just live down the road from Beaufort Street, so it�s a quick walk taking no more than 6 minutes. I ordered my house mates kebab first, taking a mental note to come back here and get Dolmades, which I noticed behind the counter - a tasty delight involving vine leaves 'n' rice - Yum!

Moving from one shop to the next is like moving from a grand palace to a slum house - I love it.

As I entered the curry house I recognised the person ordering a meal from the range of grease dishes. It was Craig, a friend I've known for about 6 years. I placed myself beside him and waited for him to noticed me. "Norman! How ya' goin' man?" He finally noticed me. I invited Craig back to my place for a drink with my house mate and myself.

I ordered my large vegetarian grease soaked combination from the equally greasy gentleman behind the counter, who has an uncanny resemblance to the long gone slap stick comedian C.W.Fields, minus the hat. A true Indian quisine expert, I'm sure.

Out from behind a palm next to the counter appeared a middle age Asian gent with a white plastic bag hung on his arm. "Do you want some Serepax?" he enquires. Was this guy joking? I realised he wasn't when he brought out a box of Serepax. I politely said "No thanks" and wondered why the owner would allow drug dealing in his curry house, even with it's bad rep. He wasn't put off by the first rejection and proceeded to rattle off a list of other pharmaceutical�s he thought I might dig. Where was this guy at? Again I politely said "No thanks." "What about heroin?" He indicated this with a needle action on his arm. "Now your tempting me," I said jokingly. He obviously thought he was onto something and continued saying "Yes heroin?" and doing a jabbing action into his arm. "I can get you anything you want," he said. "Anything?" I questioned. The curry house owner thought it a good time to join in "He wants a woman" he said with a smile and a rosy red nose. "A woman?" the little man questioned. "Yeah" I said with only a slight twang of sarcasm in my voice. "I can get you a woman," he said. "A virgin" the curry man added. "Precisely. I want a virgin." The little guy smiled and shook his head. Looks like there's no chance of a virgin for me tonight so I settled on the greasy curry.

Went over the road to the aforementioned yuppie pub to get some takeaway with my friend and headed on home for some serious drinking - that's my chosen drug. By the way the service was very slow @ the pub.