The first SU club-night of the year took place last night. Every one of the over-eager, fresh-faced, optimistic, over-compensating, youthful, little, rosey-cheeked, bastards went along. We know because between about 11 and 5 there was a constant stream of pissed people falling over, screaming, and generally jumping up and down on our bedroom ceiling, exhibiting absolutely no respect for joyless mid-30s miserybags like me and Michele.
At about 3:30 I got up and did some work for an hour.
So, imagine my joy when at 6:30 we were awoken by the piercing scream of the fire alarm. Humph nearly broke his wings off in panic.
However it was all worth it when we saw the state of our Hall mates. It was like Dawn of the Dead.
A couple of hundred kids in pyjamas, dressing gowns, and haggared expressions all huddled together on the opposite pavement looking shocked at the realisation that 6am does, actually, exist. One poor sod who had clearly only just passed out on his bed, in his clothes, curled up in a little ball on the pavement and received a load of motherly attetion from pitying girls.
What a joyful thought that only hours before, every one of this lot was plastering themselves in make-up, perfume, hair conditioner and putting on their best club-wear in preparation for meeting the rest of their hall-mates. They might has well all give up now. They’ve seen everyone at their best and their worst within their first 48 hours. Like speed-marriage. I’m surprised the halls warden didn’t dish out their degree certificates as we all filed back in. There’s no surprises for the next three years now. Go on. Give up! Go home and stop setting off the bloody fire alarm.
