Every stage of the tragic home county night out

The taxi is ridiculously expensive


Coming home from uni after a long term of messy nights, friendship dramas and starting to slowly hate everyone you surround yourself with, it’s great to reunite with your friends from home.

However there are only so many country walks and drinks in the only pub in the town that you can take. At some point, someone suggests a night out. Naturally, no one has the money for London so you inevitably settle on the next best thing: some of these places, the sad and tragic hometown clubs.

The predrinks are dominated by gossip and stalking people on Facebook

Guys, someone had a baby. Like a real human baby. Yeah okay, so that’s a lifetime of responsibility but OMG IT’S SO CUTE AND IT HAS ITS OWN INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT.

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Predrinking is expensive

The reason you predrink in the only decent pub in town is that you know someone who knows someone who works behind the bar so you pray that there’s a slight chance you’ll get a free drink. But you won’t.

So then you’re left to pay just like the rest of the customers who, unlike you, own houses, pay taxes and consider paying £25 for a bottle of wine reasonable.

The taxi ride is expensive

This is when you miss uni the most. Being walking distance from the clubs is a blessing and passing the greasy stall of fast food where you know you’ll be returning to afterwards is one of the main reasons why people go out in the first place.

However, life in the home counties means that you’ll end up spending £40 for a taxi ride to Guildford and the closest thing to fast food that you pass is a Domino’s which closes before you’re inside the club.

Entry is expensive

And you don’t know anyone who can get you in for free.

Why is there a stripper pole in the middle of this club?

Why is there a stripper pole in the middle of this club?

You question the legitimacy of the club’s over 18 policy

How on earth does that European Drivers Permit bullshit still work? Did the bouncer even look at that girl’s ID? Her ID says she’s a 21 year old called Rihanna but her friends are all calling her Poppy and she looks about 12.

The music is so bad

I’m not a music snob. Taylor Swift is my idol and Justin Bieber is the only person I have ever liked before it was cool. That said, Taio Cruz and Tinchy Stryder should be left on the dancefloor of those school discos where they belong.

People have paid £8 entry so the music should at least be better than the Capital radio that was playing in the £40 taxi ride over here.

You are, by far, the most casual people in the club

Once you’ve gotten over the initial shock of the music you look around and realise pretty quickly that the trainers and jeans combo you’re wearing doesn’t quite work like it does at the uni clubs.

Why are girls wearing heels? Does that boy know his shirt has collars?

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You spot that one guy who everyone used to obsess over

Why is he still hanging out with 16-year-olds?

People are drinking Apple Sourz and Smirnoff Ice

Suddenly it becomes clear – these people aren’t drunk, they’re just so excited to be on the inside of a nightclub for the first time, relieved their shitty ID worked and high on a sugar rush from these drinks.

Too many Apple Sourz oops

Too many Apple Sourz oops

You can’t help but judge everyone else in the club

Why are those two grinding up against each other? Shouldn’t they be home revising for their GCSEs? I’m sure we were never this bad when we were their age.

You leave early and realise this was a terrible mistake

Whose idea was this in the first place?