This is from way back but here goes.
Valentines Day 2007. My significant other at the time decided to take me to a Turkish restaurant to celebrate the occasion. Generally my attitude to Turkish cuisine is that I can boil my own rice and roast meat on sticks in my own home rather than paying through the nose for it, but what the hell. We arrive and it's all very nice.
Suddenly a belly dancer appears and starts weaving between the tables to slightly painful music. I presumed this was a special show for Valentines Day, and in typical English fashion, most of the couples found it incredibly embarrassing. I know I did.
As she went past a couple near our table, the man reached out, put his hands on her hips, and blew a raspberry on her tummy. He was swiftly ejected. His girlfriend looked like she was about to poop plutonium.
Valentines Day 2007. My significant other at the time decided to take me to a Turkish restaurant to celebrate the occasion. Generally my attitude to Turkish cuisine is that I can boil my own rice and roast meat on sticks in my own home rather than paying through the nose for it, but what the hell. We arrive and it's all very nice.
Suddenly a belly dancer appears and starts weaving between the tables to slightly painful music. I presumed this was a special show for Valentines Day, and in typical English fashion, most of the couples found it incredibly embarrassing. I know I did.
As she went past a couple near our table, the man reached out, put his hands on her hips, and blew a raspberry on her tummy. He was swiftly ejected. His girlfriend looked like she was about to poop plutonium.
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