What it’s like living above T & A Kebabs

With the end of Freshers fast approaching, my flatmates and I were suddenly painfully aware that the majority of first years had already done the rounds of hungover house viewings – properties were swiftly disappearing off the market.

We found a flat plonked right in the hub of Cathays, across from the grammatically stomach-churning Koko Gorilaz, next door to Gassy Jacks, and a twenty second stagger from Family Fish Bar.

However, when we moved in in September, a little project had popped up two floors underneath our gorgeous, six bedroomed flat, complete with waterfall showers, built in coffee machine and intercom system – which we would shortly discover to be T&A Kebabs.

But it is a tasty cliche

Over the following months I’ve witnessed early-hour brawls, drunken break-ups underneath my window and naked miles up and down Gonorrhoea Street, not to mention having my car roof jumped upon like a trampoline by a certain society after their stint in Kokos.

On one particular occasion, I was ripped from my precious sleep at 3am to a guy screaming, “HOLD ME BACK BRUV!” to his gangster cap-wearing buddy, as a fight was erupting over a girl cradling a portion of chips in front of T&A.

The fighting duo circled each other like dogs over a Jumbone and the subsequent pushing and shoving led me to record most of it on my phone, just in case, you know, someone got bottled.

No matter what time of the night it is, some societies have actually taken it upon themselves to hold their social games outside our front door.

The walk home from the post-night-out meal isn’t too far

Handy

This involves dodging girls spinning in circles with bottles of vodka jammed to their lips, ducking in case a water gun or balloon is aimed at the opposing team in front of you, and putting up with being bellowed at for not wearing the correct attire.

Despite not being on the social. Or part of the society. Or even knowing who any of them are at all

The main Kebab Man behind the counter knows my boyfriend so well, we even get nods off him in the gym – yes, we’re on a nodding and smiling basis.

Nodding and smiling

As a flat, one of our favourite hobbies is to sit at our kitchen window and witness the horrors unfolding outside of Kokos, especially during initiations, all while the sweet aroma of processed chicken, elephant leg kebab and curry sauce wafts up to us from downstairs.

My flatmate Emily knows all too well: “Living above a kebab shop has been great: although the noise initially was a pain – I got used to it, and learned to wreak the bonuses from it, particularly the gossip. I would know who went home with who – in some cases probably before they did, who was in the dog house, and which people had just been on an absolute bender.”

The average Wednesday night view from our kitchen

And if you think in your alcohol-muddled mind that your drunken antics last night were bad, trust me – I could give you the full review.

Chip food fights, pole dancing on lampposts and synchronized spewing – I’ve seen it all.

And trust me, you don’t how to work that pole at all.