A definitive timeline to every Cov night out
You will lose all your friends at 1am
Let's be honest, we go on night outs and the same stuff happens. Somebody pulls in Kasbah smoking area, someone has a breakdown in the toilets and there's always that one person who just gets way too smashed. And then next week, it all happens again.
Yes, there is definitely a pattern forming here so we've made an accuate timeline of a Cov night out so you can extra prepared for anything.
It's just early enough for you to buy alcohol from your local corner shop so you can get home and begin getting ready for your ‘amazing night out’ to Kasbah. If you are a frequent Kasbah go-er you already know that no alcohol under 30 per cent will do.
You get situated in front of a mirror, do your best make up and put on a sexy body suit that you’ll probably regret later when you need to go to the toilet every 10 minutes. Or, if you’re a guy, you pick a shirt that smells decent and run your fingers through your hair.
With alcohol in hand you are ready for the next stage: pres.
You arrive at your pres, stars in your eyes, high as your expectations (it's Drake, okay). Your heart beats as you knock on the door. For a moment you think you’ve got the wrong house (fuck, not again) because you don’t hear any music but all is okay when a familiar face opens the door. As the door opens you can hear music and chatter. This is it.
You’re well into whatever drinking game is on at the minute, maybe a little too beved for your liking (but its still that perfect level of intoxication when you kind of have control but you also don’t give a fuck.) You’re laughing, having fun with your friends and a few people you don’t know.
You've put the pres on your Snapchat and Insta stories and you can't stop photobombing your pals whilst they rinse the new Snap filters.
Okay its time! You thought the night was already pretty great but now its time. Time for you to get with that hot stranger, hear your favourite jams and see the strobe lights that are slightly giving you a headache. You’re probably very drunk at this point and probably ‘could drink more’.
If you’re lucky you haven’t sobered up in the queue but let's face it, can one be so lucky? As soon as you get inside you split into groups: the ones who really need to pee and the ones who need more alcohol.
Where the fuck is everyone? You've lost everyone you came with and don't recognise anybody around you. Time to hunt for new friends. So it's back to walking round the smoking area for 20 minutes until you bump into someone on your course.
You realise you only heard the chorus of your favourite song for about 5 seconds and you’re shit tired. You didn’t end up snogging that hot stranger and now you’re hungry so you’re mentally deciding which food shop is closer to home.
You should be disappointed that the best part of the night wasn’t the paid for Kasbah night out BUT then, you remember.
It's time to get your drunk food. You head to your fave kebab place (we all know which one it is). So many ways to eat chicken. Wow. Now this, this is the best part of your night out.
By now you've probably left your fast food establishment of choice. Even though Kasbah was probably the worst part of your night the food has totally made up for it. You get an Uber or brave the walk home – you're going to be warm soon, and with a full belly, or maybe even left over chips. Could it get any better?
There's three routes your afters will take from this point:
A: You sit in your bed at home and eat those leftover chips. You're alone and comfy. All is still, all is well.
B: You very noisily arrive home with all your mates, wake up every single housemate that didn't make it out, and gossip for at least an hour about everything that happened in the night. Someone throws up in the sink.
C: You end up hitting up some rando on Tinder or going home with the very beautiful friend of a friend you met in smokers. It's gonna feel pretty bleak in the morning but it's everything you want right now.
And then next week, you'll do it all again.