If you don’t go to Rosies, is it even a Monday?
We all love to hate it (but secretly we just really love it)
Rosies, or Mosaic as disheartened second- and third-years still refer to it as, is the ultimate standard Monday night out in Exeter. I mean is it really a Monday if you don’t head out to Rosies? No of course it isn’t.
But it can be one of the worst nights out in Exeter. If you’ve ever been on a night out in Exeter you will know this is a bold statement, being that overall our nightlife has a reputation for being “alright” and you are often told as a fresher that “you’ll get use to it”.
Granted, one too many Jagerbombs down you really start to love the place but this doesn’t take away from the biggest problem. Queues. It’s 10pm, you’ve been pre-drinking since 7pm as its Exaatah and the only hope of getting into the club is by arriving early.
You get into the taxi fully prepared for a good night, I mean its ‘RozMondayz’ what is there not to love?!
Upon arrival you are hit by a 200-strong queue, the disappointment as your drunkenness starts to fade away and you regret not having that one more shot. But its okay, finally after reluctantly paying the £3 fee you’ve got into the club, THE place to be on a Exeter Monday night, its almost too good to be true – because it is, really.
Except you’re not really. The bottom floor is too chilled and your multiple shots beforehand mean that you came here to party, it’s now 11pm but you do not give up, the night is still young and you’re not giving up hope, remembering that there are three floors in this club each with their own theme you’re told by your university elders they can only get better and better. This is enough to keep your spirits high as you drunkenly head towards the stairs…
Only to fronted with what, another queue. “Pop World” is really not doing it for you and you need to get to the privileged top floor, shocked and upset to be confronted with another queue you take a break, where you strawpedo a few VKs because YOLO and your 8am Tuesday lecture will totes be fine and easy to wake up for.
So close yet so far, you bite the bullet and enter the queue, shock it’s so long, not even bangers such as Usher and old school Kanye can keep you in the mood. Refusing to give up you power on.
Feeling like you’re back in school with these queues you start getting properly aggravated about anyone trying to cut in, like you might be the captain of the rugby team but wait your turn like the rest of us mate.
Okay you are sure you definitely made it, THE top floor of Roz. Its now past midnight and in true Exeter fashion you only have two hours before the club closes (cry why must the night end so young?!) Finally reaching your goal of the top floor what is there to do? Take a selfie obvz, because did it happen if you didn’t Instagram your #edgy shots to make all your other friends from back home super jel of how much fun you’re clearly having.
An hour later, with the heat making you sweat off the remainder of your alcohol (double cry) you are confronted with the reality of a below average soundtrack, a tiny dance floor and yet another queue for the bar, the regret about coming out truly hits, you give it one last shot to have a truly good time, and in all fairness you kinda do but by the time things get into full swing its heading towards 2am, someone in your group suggests going to the kebab shop at the end of the street for some cheesy chips which to your drunk self sounds well peng.
You leave the club, slightly unsure if you had a good night or not. Feeling slightly guilty about the cheesy chips but then remembering you doing lacrosse/netball/rowing or a combination of all three makes you remember its all okay.
The end of the night entails walking home telling your flat mates how much you LOVE them as you freeze to death constantly unwilling to take a jacket out with you.
Do you regret it in the morning? Yes. Will you do it again next Monday? Probably.
Okay maybe I totes love it really, I mean are you really a basic Exataah girl if you dont?