No hat, no reflection, no pee.

So last night Steven & I decided to actually go to our local Indian takeaway. Because it was supposed to be air conditioned. It wasn't. But it was full, which is highly unusual. There was a large table of large ladies, one of whom — Sally — was celebrating her birthday. They seemed like they all came from one of the nearby housing estates (glamorous name they use here for the projects) to enjoy a special night out. At another table was a black (well, they're not African American here, are they?) family, and I think it might have been the little girl's birthday too. Very jealous of her ice cream dessert in a little paper cylinder with a plastic toucan head. When they left their table was taken by a couple of "blokes" who sat diagonally from each other. At first I thought they were expecting the wives or girlfriends. Nope. Steven says if I read "Watching the English" I'll understand. In any case it's feeling very diverse. We get seated next to a table of three white dudes. As soon as we settle in, I notice that the guy closest to me is talking about the film industry. He's got an irish accent. He's Gabriel Byrne.