A list of every stereotype you’ll meet in Bristol halls of residence this year

Which one are you?

The people in halls are like a box of chocolates- some are nuts, others are sweet, most you like, a few you'll hate. Collectively they offer short term joy at the expense of long term physical deterioration and decline.

Whilst every hall is different- from the rah rahs of Churchill to the five strong cohort at Woodland Road- certain stereotypes are to be found in EVERY type of UoB accommodation.

Behold are the collection of rogues, reprobates and romantic interests that will fill your Bristol Uni hall of residence.

"Mixtape drops next week fam"

"Mixtape drops next week fam"

Wavey Davey

Dave went to public school but now he's reinvented himself. Following that second Oxford rejection, he's now a Bristol boy loud and proud- "After all they're basically the same aren't they?" Signet ring on one hand, a can of Red Stripe in the other, a trip down Park Street has given him a whole new wardrobe of wavey garms to show he really does go to Bristol. He'll spent the next three years pretending to like drum and bass whilst secretly listening to Dire Straits when no else is around.

Wasted Wanda

Certain things you can set your watch by. Cocks crowing, church bells ringing- and Wanda sobbing in the gutter outside Lolas AGAIN. Dave got with his course sister so it's up to you to bundle her into a blue cab and see she gets home safe. Delightful by day, a nightmare at night, Wanda undergoes a weekly Friday ritual that sees her regress from lucid and engaged to degenerate and dishevelled. Some call it a Jekyll and Hyde personality- you blame jaegerbombs and low self esteem.

When the VK starts to hit you

When the VK starts to hit you

Herpes Harvey

Though you've probably had your eye on him all freshers' week, it turns out that Harvey has already acquainted himself with half the girls on your corridor. Though unironic 'Ladz' might hail his sexual prowess as proof of alpha-esque virility, you'll quickly realise his ethical compass is a little off balance after you see him draping himself round Wasted Wanda in the gutter. Half way through first term, word of his antics (and infectious genitals) will ensure that no girl goes within a thousand yards of him.

Militant Matt

Though he seems alright on first inspection, behind Matt's warm smile lurks a psychopathic alter ego just waiting to jump out at the first pre drinks. Matt's done every drinking game and knows all the rules- you choose to play 'Ring of fire', you take your life in your own hands. Any slightest deviation from the scriptures laid down in Biblical text will be met with an indignant roar of "THAT'S NOT HOW YOU PLAY THIS GAME". You'll stop inviting Matt after that but somehow he'll keep turning up to kill your vibe.



Promotin' Pete

"ANYBODY NEED A TICKET!!" These words are how you first encounter the phenomena of the university club promoter. Like the heads of Hydra, when one dies, three more take their place. Ubiquitous, harmless but extremely irritating, they'll be the bane of your group chats but may one day offer salvation for when Gravity sells out.

Gap yah Gabby

Gabby took a gap year and she wants YOU to know. This information will be systematically but methodically bludgeoned into your skull over the next year by a series of attacks on every one of the five senses. She'll show you her pictures of the Amazonian rainforest and tell you of the friends she made there- "That's Tarquin, rahlly spiritual guy". She'll make you feel her Afghan tapestry and smell her Persian incense- picked up in some two bit tourist trap market- before forcing you to chomp down a recipe she first learnt in her ski season.

Rah rah rah

Rah rah rah

Hooray Henry

There's a Henry in every hall, though they typically gather in packs round Wills. Proud of their clotted cream origins- rich, white, thick- they'll spend most of first year in a state of inebriated hedonism yelling "Chunderbirds are go!" When they're not guzzling prosecco in black tie, they're out in tweed with the shooting society or ordering Grey Goose to their hockey table at Wednesday Sports Night. Outside of halls, Henry will realise nobody actually cares what father does for a living and thus spend the next two years trying (but failing) to recreate his life in halls.

Hearthrob Heather

Though you KNOW not to defecate where you eat, Hearthrob Heather is the girl down the corridor who you accidentally end up falling in love with. She's tall, distant, with sparkling teeth and a personality to match. They're ten a penny in every halls but you think she is THE ONE. You'll probably end up sobbing your heart out to 'Mr Brightside' in Lounge as she gets with some third year in front of your eyes. After halls, you'll rarely see her again except when she pops up on your TL to rack up another 200+ likes on her Love Saves the Day profile pic.

Unrequited love for Hearthrob Heather

Unrequited love for Hearthrob Heather

Bitter Bea

Bea (NOT Beatrice, ty) is angry and she wants you to know. She's angry at her parents, for forcing her to go to a boarding school. She's angry at the uni, for its continued Eurocentric, patriarchal bias. And she's angry at YOU, for preing in the communal kitchen at quarter past 10 when 'SOME PEOPLE' are trying to work. Bea will spew her anger out on her personal blog over the next three years, rallying against the Hooray Henrys and entrenched privileged 'endemic' to the university, begging the question: why the hell did you choose to come here?

Northern Nick

Despite its reputation as a bastion of southern Oxbridge rejects, Bristol occasionally lets the odd Northerner across the Clifton Suspension Bridge. There'll be a token one in every hall, baffled by the swarms of 'soft' southerners around him in the bar as he nurses his pint of Newcastle Brown Ale quietly in the corner. Friendly by nature, Nick's gruff exterior hides a warm heart. Just don't mention the word "Thatcher" to him- he can't stand the cider, let alone 'That Woman'.

If you like gravy with chips, you're probably a Northern Nick

If you like gravy with chips, you're probably a Northern Nick

Vanishing Vic

Like an apparition, Vic's presence is never known, only suspected. A dirty plate in the sink, a slamming door, a flushing toilet upstairs- all these are signs of that mysterious fresher who no one has actually ever seen.

International Inigo

Warm, friendly and eager to learn, Inigo will spend the next three years enduring a car crash induction to the intricacies of the English class system. Perplexed by the Hoorays and mystified by the Matts, he'll eventually master our great language- "What is 'Spoons'?"- before returning home to tell tales of our rain swept nation and "How much those English drink".