Everything we all miss about going out: An ode to clubbing
The club toilets were always the best part
The Edi club scene. There was nothing quite like it. From the Saturday night shenanigans at Big Cheese to the vibe-y nights at Mash House, there was a place for everyone. Now, mid-pandemic, it’s high on the list of things we can’t do. Clubbing is the only reason we’re at uni anyway, right? Oh wait, you guys are actually studying?
We can have as many Zoom pub nights as we like, but it’s just not the same. There’s no smoking area in your flat. There’s no making friends in the toilets. And waking up still drunk the next morning when you didn’t even leave your flat is not it.
For the sake of nostalgia, let’s take a trip down memory lane to better days of drunk dancing and regrettable pulls:
Firstly, if you call them “prinks,” you need to check yourself out because that behaviour is unacceptable. The pres before hitting the club really set the tone for the night. A lot goes on during this short but sweet time: drinking games to last minute outfit changes and photoshoots. If something goes wrong, the night is ruined. But get it right and pres could be better than the club itself (controversial, I know). You just have to make sure it doesn’t get too rowdy as you don’t want to wake up to a noise complaint from your neighbours.
The Uber Ride
You said you would walk, and you meant it. You really did. But it’s kind of cold outside, and you’ve had a few drinks so decide to book an Uber instead. Everyone tells the person ordering it they’ll pay them back, but we all know that’s a lie.
So you down your drinks as no drink should be left behind, rally the troops and head down to catch your carriage to the club.
If you don’t ask the driver, “you been busy tonight?” then you’re lying. Gotta get that five star passenger rating.
You walk in straight past the cloakroom (that two pounds is better spent on a tequila shot), tie your oversized hoodie/massive puffer jacket around your waist and push into the dance floor where it’s your time to shine.
That feeling when your favourite tune is playing in a club, you’ve got a drink in your hand and you’re surrounded by all your pals – it’s amazing, it is. Until someone knocks into you and spills their cherry venom on your new white top.
Next thing you know, two hours have passed and you decide it’s time for a group toilet trip. The toilet trip is the highlight of a night out. It is where the gossip is shared, tears are shed and the vomit projectiled. These trips could take anywhere from five minutes to an hour, timing depending on alcohol intake.
A moment of silence for some of the most notorious toilets sitting obsolete in these Covid times. I wonder how the Prince Harry cut-out on the door of Garibaldi’s is doing?
At 1:45 am, you’re faced with a choice – the most important one of the night. Do you bail early and sprint it to the chippy or McDonald’s in order to secure a cheeky hot meal before the 2 am close, or do you stay and enjoy the vibes for the last hour? Whatever your choice is, you end the night buzzing, crash into bed, wake up (or not) for that 9am lecture and do it all over again.
As much as we all miss the clubs, the best part was doing it with your friends. Keep meeting up with them to get your free Pret, keep going on that evening walk around the meadows with them or even just have a Zoom drinks night. Keeping in touch can do a world of good, and one day, we shall return to the hallowed streets of Edinburgh for a dance and a drink.