Why hall flat parties are a terrible idea

If the smell the next day wasn’t enough to convince you.


Fresher hall flat parties are a staple of the first year of university. They’re easy to organise, a lot of fun, and are a great way to meet new people.

While third years have the library and second years have their house parties, us freshers have flat parties as our stereotypical thing to do.

But three weeks into university and i’m already starting to question whether they’re worth all the fuss.

It’s really hot. Not in a good way.

14516539_1357066664306379_8263007751094718163_n
As it turns out, 5 person flats with bedrooms the size of prison cells are not meant to accommodate 50 odd people from your course. By half 10 it feels like the Sahara, with the only difference being the intense smell of rum.

You feel like you can hardly breathe and before you know it your pleasant flat kitchen has been turned into a vibrating can of sardines as you all bounce around to the sound of Jump Around blasting through the speakers.

 

Your halls are smaller than you think.

14469710_1342905695722476_7167329451577369410_n
We’ve all been there, the person from downstairs is cute and the litre of pinot you just drank is making them look like the best decision in the world.

And then you see them the next day. And the next. And the next. Before you know it they’re the only person you’ve seen for the last week.

 

You realise why bouncers always seem so antsy.

Bouncers
By the time the third guest has thrown up in the sink, suddenly you’re sympathising with the douchebag who kicked you out of Pryzm last week.

Similarly whilst it’s nice the first time someone tells you that they love you, it gets real old by the 33rd and they’re trying to tell you why that means they should have your vodka.

 

The PoundLand glasses you bought are more valuable to you than you thought.


When the first one breaks you’re chill, but when you wake up with only a bowl and an egg cup it becomes apparent that plastic cups were invented for a reason.

 

Waking up in your own bed is a gift. Unless…  

bed

I get it, Stoke Bishop is far. But when someone says “sure crash at my place” that is not an invitation for you and 6 friends to choose the comfiest looking bed with or without someone in it. Sofas are comfy. Use them.

 

Finally understanding the true reason you have kebab shops.      

When someone looks a bit ill you offer them toast. Then someone else wants a carrot for reasons you don’t know or understand. Soon, the food you brought to keep yourself alive for the next week is gone and you’ve realised why university students make the decision between food and alcohol.

 

The hangover from hell.

12106745_1103239663022415_6013328863949530377_n

Hangovers are never going to be fun. Ever. The only thing that can make it worse is the now sticky floor covered in alcohol, the cake that’s been mushed into the carpet, and the bottles which have found their way into every inch of your once clean flat.

Instead of spending the day curled up in your duvet, be prepared for a whole lot of hoovering. Great for headaches.

With this being said if anyone fancies coming to 513 next week, they’ll be jello shots and a clown.