Mason and Jarratt students swapped halls for a night

It was a real struggle

8 years ago

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It was a fated Friday morning. Instead of spending the day procrastinating and eventually hitting Propaganda as they usually would, Nick (a Mason resident) and Mikey (belonging to Jarratt) decided they’d spend the day procrastinating in each other’s halls instead. Let the chaos commence…

12pm

Mikey

His room is covered in posters for pop punk bands and classic films. I feel like I’ve just walked into the room of an angst-ridden fourteen-year-old. At least it’s clean and tidy, plus there’s a TV which is nice.

Nick

I move into Mikey’s room. It smells of vintage jumpers and too much hair dye. I sit on his bed and decide it’d be best to pass the next 24 hours the same way I would any other day; watching pretentious indie films on Netflix and occasionally checking my Facebook messages. I open my laptop, the feel of its sleek screen sending shivers down my spine. I go onto chrome, at which point I hit a problem.

“Google Chrome can’t display the web page because your computer isn’t connected to the Internet.”

I start to fret. Is my laptop on airplane mode? Is the internet down in this flat? Maybe this room just has terrible connection? Yes, surely. Definitely.

It then slowly dawns on me that those using the internet in Mason cannot access the internet in Jarratt. I sink onto his floor and let his carpet absorb my tears.

Definitely not

2pm

Mikey

He has a PS3. HE HAS A PS3.

Nick

I’m sitting in Mikey’s kitchen, sipping on a cup of water and spooning the cookie dough mix I found in his cupboard into my mouth. Comfort eating seems like little solace right now, but it’s all I have. Why internet, why? His flatmate walks into the kitchen dressed in a full chainmail suit of armour. She gets a glass of a milk. On the way we exchange an awkward nod of ‘hello.’ I am mildly terrified.

5pm

Mikey

I have met his flatmates before, but I’ve never really spoken to them. At first they must have assumed that I was just a guest but after a few hours of me being in their flat and no sign of Nick, they must be getting a bit suspicious.

Nick

I’ve noticed that Mikey’s room seems to have an ant problem. I watch them crawl up and down his desk, feeding off the cookie crumbs littered around the wood. The sun is beginning to set, and I’ve spent the past hour trying to see how ridiculous I can make my face look on my laptop’s pre-installed webcam toy. I suppose this was their target market all along.

9pm

Mikey

I completely forgot to ask Nick which cupboards are his and I’m too polite to just take food. With a limited student budget and my precious Aldi a half hour walk away, I realise that the only possible solution in this situation is pizza. I can feel Nick’s flatmates judging me, they’re probably wondering where he went and who I am. Perhaps they think I’m stealing all his stuff, but I would never do such a thing – I’m just going to be borrowing the PS3 (although maybe indefinitely).

Mikey was having a riot

Nick

I’ve made a friend. His name is Charles, and he’s Mikey’s banana onesie. We get on like a house on fire; he’s let me win the past two games of blackjack. I’m starting to think he could be the one.

1am

Mikey

The Mason beds are genuinely so much better than the ones in Jarratt. They’re almost twice as big and are much more comfortable. The ensuite is just wrong though – why doesn’t it have a door, why does it have a slider you can’t lock? Why is the entire bathroom a shower? To make it worse, the bathroom light is broken. How does he know when to stop wiping?

Nick

Me and Charles had an argument about his lack of interest in our game of cheat. I threw him across the room in a fit of blind rage and watched him recede into Mike’s open wardrobe. Charles is dead. Long live Charles.

11am

Mikey

It’s been 23 hours. I’ve now been here so long that I’m starting to crave Waitrose deliveries and have a sudden desire to wear a Jack Wills jumper. It’s happening, I can feel myself becoming a Mason wanker. I think his flatmates hate me.

Nick

How can mirrors be real if our eyes aren’t real?

The morning after the night before

Nick

I meet Mike for a coffee and he hands me back my flat keys. I’ve never felt so happy to hold this set of keys in my life. He asks me how last night was. I smile and say it wasn’t too bad.

Never again.

Nicholas Peters