The Tab Interviews: A Trinity May Ball Ticket

The most-talked about, hottest, and most desirable Cambridge BNOC, A Trinity May Ball Ticket, chats *exclusively* with the Tab


He's mysterious. He's incredibly wealthy. He's a bit of A5 paper with a bardcode glued to his back. Yes, I can exclusively reveal that the Tab secured a one-on-one interview with Cambridge's most desirable bachelor: A Trinity May Ball Ticket. As soon as the interview begins, it is clear that this is an A-Lister I am dealing with: everytime he opens his mouth to speak, Dom Perignon champagne spills out onto the floor; an overwhelming desire to give him my first born child consumes me. But, I remain professional. Following my incredibly successful interview debut with Not Jacob Rees-Mogg, I know it's my duty to remain impartial and respectful.

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a gal can dream!

"Mr Ticket," I begin, "How does it feel to be the hottest thing in Cambridge right now? Bear in mind, your closest competition is a sweaty swap at Sesame with a bunch of 6/10s who play lacrosse?" A sexy, mysterious silence follows; A Trinity May Ball Ticket remains tight lipped. This *might* be due to him being an inanimate object. I press on nonetheless: "Women want you; men want to be you – how do you handle the fans?" Once more, A Ticket is coy and enigmatic – hyponotising almost, and I do suddenly find myself grabbing my phone from my pocket and writing a draft text to mummy demanding she gives me the £410 I need to buy him right this minute or else I shall just cry, mummy, I shall just cry and cry!

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10/10 would bang

I try to compose myself. Mummy has said no. Bitch. It's cool, whatever. A Ticket adjusts his monocle to give me a pitiful glance. But, we must persist – I have an interview this afternoon with a blue VK which is going to be served at Medwards Garden Party. "Let's cut the bullshit and get straight to the chase: how do I get you?" A Ticket pauses, looks me up and down, refers to me as "scum", and mutters something about it being a "priceless night", only available to those who have grad jobs with 80k starting salaries, trust funds, and/or at least two holiday homes (one *has* to be an Alpine lodge, he helpfully specified).

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*EXCLUSIVE* pics of the moment A Trinity May Ball Ticket was conceived

"Your celebrity status is only rivaled by St. John's May Ball – do you two get along behind the scenes?" A Ticket scoffs. "PAH!" He exclaims, diamonds falling out of his agape mouth, "I would not even dignify that bona-fide circus by calling it a ball!" He pelts some diamonds at me in disgust. God I want him.

"Finally, Mr Ticket, what's your advice for those Cantabs hoping to navigate the May Ball scene in the coming weeks?" He gives me one last look of contempt, asks to see my bank statement, and laughs in my face for fifteen solid minutes. "Tha – that's not particularly helpful advice Mr Ticket." But it's too late – he's gone, ushered away to go taste some canapés and sample champagne. My phone flashes with a notification from mummy: "And don't even think about asking for a Johns ticket either." Fuck.