Curry Dilemma

The weather still hasn't improved. I did some work this morning but I fell asleep at lunchtime for a couple of hours and woke up feeling awful, so it's a bit too late to go out and be back in time to get ready for the evening.
Being mere attendees of Curry Night, I am never quite sure who will be there, apart from the organiser and his girlfriend, who are both friends. This is perplexing me, being in the funny mood I am at the moment. Usually a few others are there too, including a couple whom I make a determined effort to avoid and sit as far away from as possible. The woman is very into 'keeping up with the Joneses', so any conversation I usually have with her ends up somewhere obscure, as I tend to clam up. Her husband is one of the most arrogant bastards I have ever had the displeasure to meet, which is a problem for me if I've had a couple of Cobras, as I find it really hard to keep my trap shut when he says things that get my hackles up.
The last time, they were there and ended up next to me and Fur. Our friends were at the other side of the huge round table and one had to bellow to be heard over the Indian music, so consequently, so as not to confirm the fact that I am an anti-social git, I had to talk to them.
I know she doesn't like me, I'm not her type and frankly, that's fine with me. There is a finite amount of crap about how much she loves the others and blah blah blah and what new wallpaper is 'in' this season that I can take without switching off. She spends most of the evening re-confirming plans with the others there for diet club and frangipan making , just to make it clear that I am not invited to her little gatherings, that by the time my dhansak has arrived, I want to leave, as it just isn't cricket to put a menu up as a screen between yourself and someone else.
They recently bought an expensive boat, cos they could. Fair enuff I say. What they neglected to do however, was learn to sail before doing so. Something about running before walking here.. This means that it festers in the marina for most of the time, gathering slime on its bottom, whilst they lounge around in the cockpit, swigging Pinot Grigio and looking 'cool' in the latest Murphy and Nye swankwear.
Now I sound like I'm bitching but I'm not, well ok I am, but with reason.
Not long after they had taken on ownership of the aforementioned new boat, they appeared one warm sunny evening for a drink on a friend's boat we were relaxing on.
The more the merrier I thought, until a cruising yacht appeared down the fairway, attempting to get into a berth. Now this boat looked a bit 'travelled', had all the gear (Aries etc) and the skipper gave the impression that harbour hopping in the Solent just wasn't his game.
The man, looking the yacht up and down, began to sneer about the condition of the vessel and then very loudly exclaimed, so that the owner of the cruiser could hear, that you don't see many manky old boats in the marina.
I was horrified and so embarrassed. Fur, disgusted, sniped 'I bet he's done 60 miles to get here today and you've got the nerve to comment on his boat, when you're too scared to go out of the Solent.' Not good. Uncomfortable silence, time to go.
By some act of God, I managed to stay quiet, and hot footed it off the boat before a row could begin and back to our own, hoping that we wouldn't bump into the man that had been so rudely insulted. I was so angry and can't bring myself to try to get to know them. I bet we'd probably get on if we tried. Naa, we wouldn't. Never mind.