So I and my friend should have been more tactful when I left the restaurant in London and heard the waitress's eastern Europear accent when she asked for the number of the cloakroom ticket.
'Polish?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said. 'How did you know?'
'It's the accent...'
'And you look as if you've just returned from a night out in Warsaw bashing Russians,' added my friend.
'No, no,' she replied matter of factly. 'It's not as simple as that. You see I am only half Polish ... I am half Russian too.'
There are times in life where you just want to retreat into the hole from whence one came. This was the perfect moment. The Poles say - innocence plays in the back yard of ignorance and innocence itself sometimes hath need of a mask.
They also say- wherever you go you can't get rid of yourself - so reality seems to have triumphed over dimwittedness. I stuck with my lack of tact.