I have a proposition for you...

I had dinner a couple of weeks ago with a friend and her very nice, very proper English parents. We were having a lovely evening in a little local spot, a Lebanese restaurant called Yalla Yalla. It’s in an area called Soho, which is an interesting hybrid of theatre-district, seedy-redlight-district and relatively-new-gay-district. The restaurant itself is frequented primarily by Londoners, as it’s a bit off the beaten-by-tourists-path. It’s loaded with atmosphere, but only about 20 patrons fit into the small space, so it was loud and a bit warm.

After the meal, my friend’s Dad stepped outside to get a bit of air. He came back about five minutes later, looking a little agitated. When he sat down, we had the following conversation:

Dad: ‘Well, that was interesting.’

Daughter: ‘Why? What happened?’

Dad: “I was just propositioned!’

Daughter: ‘You were what?’

Dad: ‘Propositioned! A woman walked up to me and asked me if I wanted a good time tonight. I told her I was with my family.’


I was in absolute hysterics by this time. My friend’s Dad was looking a little pleased at having had this little adventure in the streets, and it was just so perfect seeing this very proper man tell such a story.

Later, when we all left the restaurant, we saw this window illuminated in tell-tale red right above the restaurant. We’re just assuming this is where the aforementioned ‘lady of the night’ would have taken my friend’s Dad.

Only in Soho…