“Shall we go for a curry then?”
I like hearing that sentence. There is not a situation when it is not welcomed, except perhaps post-coitally, which is why you should always check whether going for a curry is on the agenda. Better to know up front. I would hate to have sex and then not have a curry if I had been looking forward to the curry all through that boring foreplay bit. Sometimes that is all that keeps me going.
Anyway, I answered an with enthusiastic Yes to the question, as did the majority of our group (apart from those who probably wanted to have sex first), and so we made our way to the local curry house.
I am a traditionalist when it comes to curries, which is why I always order a chicken Balti and plain Naan bread. Just like they do in that country where they invented the Balti and Chicken Tikka Masala etc. Fat Jim is different however. He sees eating curry as a challenge, an opportunity to assert his manliness when so many other facets of his life are so disappointing.
“I’ll have the hottest curry you have!” proclaimed Fat Jim just loud enough for any of the women in the restaurant who preferred their sex post-curry (the weirdos) to hear.
There then followed some discussion of just how hot he would like it and words like phall, chillis-from-hell and instant-death likely were bantered back and forth. A short while later, our food arrived.
I had torn a piece from my Naan bread, and dipped it into my deliciously authentic Balti when I noticed Fat Jim had almost finished his curry. He was spooning more enthusiastically than a teenager at a playboy mansion sleepover.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, but he continued to focus on the wall opposite for a few more seconds until the curry was gone. At which point he drank an entire pint of lager and ordered another.
“Nice was it?” I ventured.
“Hngggh….” replied Fat Jim, before starting to cry a little bit.
He took a glass of water and held its contents in his mouth whilst making the sort of noise you would expect of a ball-mouthed gimp whilst you attached electrodes to his testicles. I would imagine.
A few hours later, once the feeling had returned to his mouth, Fat Jim was telling anyone who would listen how completely delicious his curry had been. His bravado only falling once we reminded him that these things tend to be just as hot on the way out as they were on the way in.
I have not seen or heard from him since that evening.
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15 comments
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Dr J · July 23, 2007 at 8:45 am
Ah what happy memories. The Dilshad on the Bristol Road in Selly Oak was our natural haunt in student days. We once took a mate who was half Pakistani (t’other half Irish as it happened).
The “Fat Jim” of our group ordered the Phall in much the same spirit, forcing a forkful onto our guest for the evening. Poor lad. His mum was a fine curry chef, able to infuse a meal with all the delicate spices and flavours of the mystic orient and to tantalize the taste buds with just enough tang of chilli to pique the interest. Needless to say he was not impressed.
Later in the meal he took one of the waiters to one side to enquire of him if this was what the staff cared to eat.
“Naah mate. Thats just what we give to the Med Students innit!”
Mr.X · July 23, 2007 at 9:35 am
For some reason, the phrase “that’s going to sting in the morning” popped into our head.
Can’t think why…
Jon Allen · July 23, 2007 at 10:49 am
My mouth is watering at the thought of a good curry.
“Ring Stinger” is the phrase that popped into my head!
afc 30k · July 23, 2007 at 11:16 am
I’m a woos when it comes to curry. A good old rogan josh and an garlic naan for me and korma for Wifey.
Dialyser · July 23, 2007 at 11:24 am
This reminded me of one of my mates a few years ago who like Fat Jim ordered the hottest curry available. Unlike Fat Jim my mate wasn’t “man enough” to eat it.
However the waiters didn’t let him off that easy. They force fed him it by scooping up the sauce with pieces of naan bread whilst assuring him that this was the last mouthful (much like you would a child).
He ate the whole curry in this manner much to everyones amusement!
Dominic · July 23, 2007 at 11:44 am
I don’t like curry, so happily I’ve no idea what the ‘morning after’ experience is like.
My gf assures me it’s eye-watering, tho…
Oli · July 23, 2007 at 1:14 pm
I can not get the image of Mr A laid in bed with a curry in one hand, a fit bird in the other and a bottle of rohypnol on the bedside table.
la cubana gringa · July 23, 2007 at 2:58 pm
Planning ahead for post-coital curry? I would suppose that the need for a hot dish depends on whether or not the coitus preceding it was spicy enough…
GH · July 23, 2007 at 3:09 pm
Hmm, first you post that you don’t drink Stella ‘cos you don’t like hangovers, now you’re admitting that you eat ladyboy curries.
What kind of a man are you Angry? No wonder you’re struggling to find fit birds to drag off to bed for pre- or post-curry fun!
BTW – I noticed a number of dogs cringing the other morning, I’m guessing the Fat Jim was emitting sounds from the toilet that only they could hear country-wide.
GH
Angelalala · July 23, 2007 at 3:10 pm
A little tip for James the larger. Rounded ice made from bags is much kinder than traditional cubes when it comes to bum-numbing. So my friend tells me.
I have the gob of a fairy and stick to Korma and Kingfisher, personally.
me · July 23, 2007 at 4:25 pm
next time … order a lassi for him to drink. much more soothing on the heat than any beer.
nothing wrong with a post coital curry, especially when the metabolical rate is still high.
Sam Cullum · July 23, 2007 at 9:14 pm
I’m a Korma kind of girl myself, and any self respecting woman will tell you that eating a hot curry does not impress a woman – will you men never learn.
melanie · July 23, 2007 at 11:05 pm
thankfully it wasn’t a buffet.
I like korma too. But saying post coital would mean i would actually have had sex, which sadly is lacking from my diet at present.
emma · July 24, 2007 at 12:37 am
Yeah yeah, we’ve all been there. Like Fat Jim, trying to show off by ordering the hottest curry that takes the roof off your mouth. But it always comes back to bite you in the bum doesn’t it, when you’re on the crapper, hours after and you’ve got the runs and that hot curry stings so bad, like you’ve stuck a hot poker up there. I learnt my lesson a few times and now I stick to the mild stuff.
Alan · July 25, 2007 at 11:21 am
This post reminded me of my dog, who ate a Fahl when my son couldn’t!