Remember this place? Yesterday I’m in there and a middle-aged white bloke in a cravat is sounding off at the (Gujarati) proprietor as the nearest consultable expert on the question of contemporary Indian pulchritude.
“Everybody says that one on Big Brother is beautiful, but I’ve seen better. She’s very pale skinned. I wonder if she uses that skin lightening skin like some Indian and black girls use. I’ve seen better. Who was that Miss World?…”
Proprietor: “Aishwarya Rai?”
Cravat Man: “You know, the one who was Miss World…”
Proprietor: “Aishwarya Rai?”
Cravat Man: “I suppose she’s very clever, but so was the one who was Miss World…”
Proprietor: “Aishwarya Rai?”
Cravat Man: “Yes. That’s the one.”
That resolved, within seconds Mr Cravat is wibbling on about the cricket: “…He should have walked. There’s only two players who always walk: Gilchrist and Lara…”

I used to work in a corner shop. No amount of money would be enough to get me back behind the counter engaging with the weirdness of certain members of the British general public over packets of HobNobs and copies of The Daily Mail.