A group us went out for a curry at the Ashoka Tandoori. Indian restaurants are always busy about the time the pubs close, and this night was no exception. Dear Rosey had been on the chardonnay for about 4 hours at The Cavalier in Carlisle Road and was a little squiffy, to say the least.
Well when her meal arrived, a chicken tikka masala, she wasted no time in digging her spoon in and aiming it in the direction of her mouth. I say in the direction. The spoon shot up, her mouth opened, but the curry went straight over her right shoulder. Not once but again and again. She was getting increasingly frustrated and hungrier by the minute until our friend Pete decided to forget his own dish of food for the time being and act as a human navigation system by grasping Roseys wrist and guiding her spoon in the right direction. The task was not made any easier when Rosey got a fit of the giggles then nearly choked!
As the waiter arrived with a somewhat timely plate of hot moist towels, Rosey raised her glass to him, and in her best private school accent said ‘Cheers big ears, up ya’ bums chums!’
Now I’ve heard her use this toast before – she once stood up at a very starchy wedding feast and proposed it to a startled table of diners. I had hoped that my little lecture on the unsuitability of these words in all but the most private of functions would have sunk in, but no!
At least with Rosey around, life’s never dull.