It’s not easy being a club promoter

There is no escape

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There’s an epidemic, an invasion, in town. It’s the club promoters.

You all know one. They’re everywhere: lurking in your halls and bombarding your Facebook pages with endless attempts at selling tactics.

But why? Is there something I’m missing? Maybe I’m wrong, but to me it doesn’t look like a flashy job with lots of perks.

Why bother wasting your night desperately trying to sell tickets, only to fail miserably and have to go back to your boss, saying you’ve only managed to shift three?

U knob

There’s also way too many of them. It seems lately Oxford averages at least one promoter per flat, which pretty much means the only people they’ll sell to is their flatmates (if they’re loyal).

It’s likely that their friends are going to end of up hating them thanks to their job. Endlessly leaving pres to “deliver” will become unbelievably grating.

And if you’re mates with a promoter, you’re going to end up having to go along to all of their nights, shit or not, to give them moral support.

Promoters get by on popularity, but after uni, will selling tickets to your mates and getting paralytic make you a well-rounded person.

Sure, you’re a salesman, I suppose – if you do manage to sell that is.

And yeah admittedly, they can probably put the fact that they can strawpedo a VK in 10 seconds on their CV.

And you’ve got those killer Snapchats about your “epic night out”.

But is it worth it? Probably not.