I pulled at Garage dressed as Dobby the house elf
There was a bald cap involved
Garage hosted it’s first Harry Potter night and it was great.
With £1 drinks and rumored prizes my friends and I decided to go all out.
Feeling creative and eager to win, I donned my bald cap, an oversized sock and went as Dobby, the hideous but lovable house elf.
Our fancy dress game was on point, cream of the crop some might say.
We knew we were gonna win all the prizes with our team of Dobby, a spider, a patronus and hedwig.
Unfortunately there was an excessive amount of boys donning harry potter glasses and red permanent marker scars on their foreheads tagging along too. How predictable.
Tipsy and keen, we arrived early to ensure we’d get in and have a truly magical night.
But while standing in the mahoosive queue, we quickly realised not everyone had put in quite as much effort in as us. With my ears whacking peoples faces left, right and centre it seemed like most people had just dressed up for a standard friday night out.
Our competition was looking pretty slim, but once inside we soon began to notice other 10/10 outfits.
I even found another Dobby.
Although my sights were set on winning the prize, my main aim for the night was to score as many free drinks as possible. Who doesn’t love dobby?
My aim of blagging as many free drinks as possible dressed as Dobby went majorly downhill as my come hither eyes failed time and time again.
Despite people’s obvious love of our costumes the love clearly wasn’t enough to spare a quid and buy us a drink. I only managed to get one free drink the entire night.
People were losing their shit at our outfits, several girls stopped me in the queue for the bogs to get a picture with me. Wonder how many snapchat stories we featured in that night.
The spider managed to get half of Garage doing the conga, legs were flying everywhere, it was a truly wondrous sight to see.
But whilst people were scrambling to get a snog with a cardboard cut out of Hagrid, I, cardboard ears and all, somehow managed to pull.
Our eyes met across the dancefloor.
He clearly couldn’t resist the allure of my bald cap.
Our brief tryst was quickly interrupted by my ears whacking into a strangers face, causing my bald cap to be tugged off my head.
Drunk and panicked I ran away for a smoke.
I highly doubt there’s a boy out there with my home-made dobby head, searching for the girl whose head fits the cap, but at least I’ll always have this blurry picture to show the grandchildren.
By the end of the night the winners of the mystery prize hadn’t been revealed, or if they had we were too pissed to notice.
So empty handed, bedraggled and bald cap-less we decided to call it a night.
And I didn’t even get Prince Charming’s number.