Today was the final day of some R&R. I go back to work on Friday for some professional development. I made the most of it all things considered. I backed out of a trip to the islands because my ankle has been paining me but took up an offer for lunch. A few friends of mine wanted to go out and have some Indian. I psyched myself up for some tawa roti and murgh makhani by listening to some Bollywood hits before heading out. Unfortunately, when we went there the restaurant was closed until evening. We cut our losses, said we'd come back tonight and found a little place to get some grub. My chicken pasta was quite dry and the spaghetti bolognese was incredibly garlicy. We're talking bad Italian restaurant garlic bread garlicy. It was difficult for my friend to get down.
Fast forward to this evening. We make it back to the restaurant and thankfully they're open. We decide to sit inside so that we can watch the Bollywood numbers being played on a big screen in the back. I did manage to recognise All Izz Well from 3 Idiots. Well, we ordered some dishes off of their severely limited menu (murgh makhani, naan, daal, etc) and had a good time. I wonder if I keep going there on a semi-regular basis if I can get them to make some sort of special dish like my favourite, the murgh noorjahan malaiwala (I think that's how it's spelt).
Well, on our way back out we got stopped by a man whom I can only classify as pure, unadulterated crazy. He looked me right in the eye and asked if I was Japanese or Chinese. Now, I've been mistaken for British and German before but never Japanese or Chinese. Now that I reflect back on it I really wish I had stopped to talk to him more and maybe have gotten a picture (didn't have a camera). He was just so insistent and myself and one other were of one of those descents. I kind of want to know now what he was going to do if we had said, 'yes.'
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