I’ve fallen foul of cultural stereotypes. Again.

Yesterday I had lunch down by the river in Richmond. By God, innit it nice down there? You know you’re in a swanky part of town when kids are being wheeled round in buggies that look like Porsches.

While getting stuck into a rather succulent piece of roast beef, I happened to notice a group of four sat next to our table. The men were no lookers and one of them was making his mangle of a face even worse by braying at full volume that the service was crap.

His friend agreed and mangle-face, spurred on by this, turns to our table and begins dissecting the possible reasons as to why (as we’d reached desserts by that time) I might have left a bit of my sticky toffee pudding behind. (For those of you who are interested, it’s because I was so stuffed I was about to be sick and The German was gearing up to roll me out of the restaurant.)

And meanwhile, on gazed their Asian female companions.

Quick as a flash it was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

“Psssssst, Thai brides, table to your left.”

I really should learn to grow up. And probably stop reading The Sun too.