It was a busy Friday night in central London. My friend and I grabbed a drink after work and began the usual game of table roulette, weaving through the after-work crowds in search of somewhere to sit. Eventually, we hit the jackpot and found a space all to ourselves.

A group of contractors were nearby, mostly white men, and they ended up chatting to us all evening. They shared cigarettes. One kept drifting over to flirt. At one point he interrupted our deep and meaningful conversation to ask for a dance.

We politely declined but it was one of those perfect Friday nights where the drinks and the jokes between strangers flowed easily. Then he joked: “Are you two sisters?” We laughed. “Would you say that to two white people? That’s a bit racist, lol!” We expected banter back. Instead, the night took a very unexpected turn.

He started shouting, calling us c***s, his friends having to hold him back. Being called racist, even as a joke, seemed to short-circuit him completely. We tried to calmly reason with him, explaining why that........

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