OCBucksFan
I won a math debate
The crying game: Misery clubs come to the UK
Oh, if ever there was a place that needed to have a suicide bomber roll in to say hi!
Against a backdrop of crashing choral music and candlelight, a group of elaborately costumed young women are dabbing their eyes with a handkerchief, their mascara running to form black rivulets down their cheeks.
It is not difficult to see why they are so distressed: in front of them, a mound of pungent onions is being vigorously and elaborately chopped by a serious-looking young man in a tailcoat, and the fumes are overwhelming.
Even the male guests are wiping away the odd tear.
But then that's precisely the point. The 300 people in the crowd at this candlelit 17th-century wine vault, tucked away off a busy London thoroughfare, are here to do just that.
Oh, if ever there was a place that needed to have a suicide bomber roll in to say hi!
