The Cheese Room is the epicentre of modern British clubbing

Wherever you go to uni, you know what the word cheese means. It conjures an instant mental image of a moist room, located usually towards the back of the club. It’s claustrophobic, and filled with equally moist people.

But it’s home.

It’s an odd, comforting place where buying a round of alco-pops only makes you look like more of a don.

With a VK in each hand, but no proof they came with any friends, the cheese room always seems to attract the more questionable members of society. They’ve come here for one thing and one thing only: to go in hard to the sounds of 90’s. But if you’re sat there pretending you’ve not once conformed to this stereotype, then you’re definitely lying.

Lured in each and every time by the distant hum of DJ Casper, we’ve all made a visit to the cheese room and we’ve all loved it.

Led by one slightly overweight man who watches over his loyal band of followers, the cheese room DJ, with his spontaneous outbursts of “THIS NEXT ONE IS A BANGER”, will take you back to those Year 7 discos.

Tormenting the lonely hearts with Ronan Keating’s If Tomorrow Never Comes and encouraging all the bitter single girls with Pussycat Dolls’ Don’t Cha, the generically titled “Dj Flava” keeps it real, providing nothing but anthems and irrelevant shout outs to “Sandra and her girls” all night.

He knows his audience, it’s a huarache free-zone and TLC’s Waterfalls is about as much wave as you’ll get in here.

There’s a comforting familiarity.

You know to expect a few dodgy older-looking men, bobbing in the corner with a pitcher of Carlsberg. Sure it’s a bit weird they’ve left their family of five at home to be surrounded by people 20 years younger, but they know all the words to Year 3000, which makes them pretty much harmless.

In the other corner, there will always be a few boys who seem as though they might be on their first night out despite being third years. They’ve got looks of wild uncertainty on their faces as girls fill up the dance floor and you can normally suss them as the ones pretending their bottles are microphones after the second beer.

And dressed to the nines, dominating the unstable looking pole in the centre of the cheese room will always be the group of girls who’ve captured the whole night on their 200 second Snapchat stories.

Singing into each others faces and screaming each time another Britney classic comes on, these basic huns live for the cheese and you can’t even blame them.

No one is judging, because we’re all in it together.

So what you know the dance routing to 5, 6, 7, 8 and B*Witched’s C’est La Vie takes you to a euphoric place? There’s no competition to look good in here because everyone looks tragic.

So don’t be a hater, because when it comes to the cheese room, you look more uncool trying to look cool.

Just embrace the sweet harmonies of Boyz II Men and let the cheese room bring you to your knees for the final riff in End Of The Road.