The Couch, Soho

After a booked party we were frog marched out at 11.15 pm my fianc�e politely voices his concern only to be set upon by the terrier at the door. One second we�re all enjoying the end of my birthday night, the next I sobbing as this Neanderthal pins my fianc�e to the floor in the middle of Wardour Street.

I, and all my friends, and all their friends shall never go to this bar again. The beer is fine, the staff behind the bar are efficient but the brain-dead monkey meat at the door is now being investigated following my report to the Police and Security Industry Authority (SIA). Be warned.

6 Oct 2007 17:54