A few months ago a billionaire rang Peter Stringfellow and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. “Millions,” Stringfellow says. “Not MILLIONS — enough for a private jet. But millions.”
The trans-capital rail project Crossrail is changing the character of Soho in London and his landlord, Freshwater, is paying him to surrender his lease. Stringfellow will close his strip club, Angels. He thinks they’ll rip it all out and put in a hotel.
“I’ll keep my flagship club [Stringfellows in Covent Garden] going but that’s it. It’s getting harder, no question.”
We navigate the leopardskin upholstery and the dancers’ pole and descend to Stringfellow’s office in the basement. It is light and airy. Pat, his assistant of 30 years, is pecking away at a keyboard.