On saturday, we were lounging in the sun on a rooftop patio restaurant in Ottawa with some friends. The mixture of cultures and experiences along with some good food and beer made for a hilarious afternoon.
Varun: (reading the menu description of a taco tapas) Striploin? What kind of dish IS this?
Me: Um. It’s steak…?
Varun: And this one, tenderloin?
Waitress: Can I take your order?
Varun: I’ll have the Tacos Del Norte (Pronounced Del NORRR-TEE)
Friend: I’ll have the Fajitas Quesdillas. (pronounced Fa-gee-tas K-sid-ill-ass)
Waitress: (confused look)
Me: He’s kidding (pointing to Friend) and he’s not (pointing to Varun)
As the meal drew to a close, all the girls stood up to head downstairs to the washroom.
Varun: Why do girls always go to the washroom together?
Me: So we can talk about boys.
Male Friend: Hey Varun, let’s go to the washroom together (this was said in a manly manner).
Varun: You know, in my country men hold hands.
(I later caught this on film:)