Soho pub help

IdleRich

IdleRich
I'm meeting up with this girl I used to know from school today who has been living in Sweden for the last few years. A few weeks ago she suggested meeting up today and I agreed, totally forgetting that it was the semi-final day. I realised yesterday that she is coming to Soho as are a load of other school friends I haven't seen for ages but the pub I suggested isn't showing the game. Also, yesterday she helpfully pointed out that she is pregnant and would prefer somewhere with no smoking, so, in a nutshell, I need a pub in Soho that will show the football and has a non-smoking policy or at least a large no-smoking section. Any ideas?
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
Cheers mate. Didn't read this until too late but never mind, went to some dump called the Midas Touch in the end, wish I hadn't bothered.

"the pub I suggested isn't showing the game"

"I'm gonna be in the John Snow but don't think that's got the footie"
The pub I originally suggested was the John Snow, always a handy Soho meeting place I find.
 

mistersloane

heavy heavy monster sound
yeah a mate of mine's working in there at the moment, I like it as a place, I like all the Sam Smiths pubs though, i think!
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
I like all the Sam Smiths pubs though, i think!
Me too, they're cheap as chips, they are always in lovely buildings that they don't "bland-out" by re-configuring, what's not to like?
 

Mr. Tea

Let's Talk About Ceps
Me too, they're cheap as chips, they are always in lovely buildings that they don't "bland-out" by re-configuring, what's not to like?

Speaking of pubs, you coming to the Dove tonight? Grungle and I are going there for a late drink 10-10.30 ish.
 

luka

Well-known member
Wednesday, January 28, 2004



All My Soho Loves by Oliver Chardonnay Craner.

Office girls in white shirts and black skirts and patent leather heels standing in doorways taking cig breaks. Bar Italia spivs, corrupt club football on a large screen, postcards from Amalfi on the wall. Camisa & Son for Parma ham, olives, and cheese. Nino's Salon and its glass door pin-ups and Audrey Hepburn cut-out (4ft high). Angelucci's coffee beans. A fat plate of spaghetti in La Centrale; chain-smoking waitresses, your own wine. Lambrettas in Little Italy. Downstairs in Harold Moores records (they're not his) discussing the Hutton Enquiry, crowded by classical vinyl. Chefs squatting on milk carts, smoking in damp alleys. Berwick street fish stall with swordfish, squid and spratts. The one next to it, selling tacky Russian dolls and Soviet souvenirs to idiots. The Duke Ellington tip, or Blackmarket's bangers. Snow-capped Soho Square, this Wednesday evening. King prawns in Chinatown, not chopsticks ("I want to eat!" "Stab 'em, O!"). The strip club door girls, old UK garage tapes, vivid lipstick. The Agent Provocateur girls, on lunchbreak, uniform covered up, make-up immaculate. The Quentin Crisp fops, not the body builders. The market stall men, when they get down to a game of poker, all sat around a wooden box. Maison Bertaux: reading until 8pm, eye the continental boho crowd with disdain or lust, depending. Clocks, lights and chains: clogged metal in W. Switch & Co. Paving stones and iron lamps on Meard Street. Portuguese women in St Patrick's, singing broken plain chant in ropey unison; swathes of dying light, candles. Jean Cocteau's mural in Notre Dame (just off course, but there in spirit). An Off License on Old Compton Street: ask them for any spirit or wine from anywhere in the world (Polish Brandy?) and they will go to the back and get it. The school with the roof-top playground. Dankness and decay kept at bay by the spirit of the old village. You have to search to uncover the secrets of this maze: a mental slant can reverse the malaise. It's worth the endeavor. Everywhere is rich, otherwise poetry is a pox.



posted by oc # 5:25 PM
 

luka

Well-known member
one of the most powerful buyers on then Foyles shop floor. in charge of two departments. i miss having people in the city to drop in on.
 

luka

Well-known member
Jim used to work in Soho too. you could phone him up and get him out for a quick coffee or pint. Ben too. everyone's gone now.
 

version

Well-known member
i hate drinking in Soho becasue you meet men who still buy into that mythos of small time gangsters and alcoholics and aristocrats gone to seed. it disgusts me that world. unhygenic. failed. worthless degenerates.
 
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