You're into ethnic food, aren't you?

Yesterday at work, I was downstairs scanning documents into the computer. Lisa the ditzy receptionist asked me what I had done on the weekend. I replied that I had been to a choral workshop, and one of the highlights was listening to a young Sudanese men's choir.

"They're the ones who are so black, they disappear with the light off, right"?

Um, right, I said. They sang really well.

"What, like all hymns and stuff?"

No, I said, more like their traditional music of Sudan.

"Oh".

"So, what are you doing next weekend, then"? she asked.

I am doing a Middle Eastern dinner for a friend, seeing as I forgot her birthday and I need to make it up to her. We are making lamb meatballs, yoghurt salad, pilaf and so on (see previous entry).

Pause.

"Middle Eastern? What, will it be like a massive hairy dinner or something?"

Ah ha, um, no. Hairy...right. No, it will be delicious, actually.

"What've you got for lunch today, then?"

Vietnamese salad, my favourite.

Pause.

"You're into ethnic food, aren't you"?

Sigh.