An ode to Hive

When you’re trying to argue with cheap drinks and a virtually non existent entry fee, it’s not really an argument at all.

The struggle is real, the tortuous inner debate on if you can mentally hack another night out. The struggle is real every morning when intrusive sounds from your phone announce another new day and a thousand bad decisions made in the hazy hours of the night no student should really be awake at on a week day. The struggle ensues all day, in your lectures, in your tutorials, in your endeavors to comprehend what anyone is saying or why.

I live five minutes from The Hive, Glasgow uni’s newly opened and popular club, and it’s ruining my life. Because I cannot stop going.

It’s the club you can go to when you’re broke, tired, missed the cab or quite frankly just want to pull and with the lack of hindsight, don’t think you mind that the guy may possibly wet your bed.

Why can’t I stop going? In theory, I should hate it.  Drinks in the GUU always seem to inevitably turn into a stumble down the connecting corridor on a Thursday night and into the karaoke room. Oh, and a word to the wise, the Smiths don’t tend to go down well within the jovial theme of a Christmas karaoke night, or any other night really. But the glory is great on the nights you get it right.

It’s like an addiction – the labyrinth of rooms to explore, the drunken friendships forged with people you don’t know how to talk to in tutorials, the cheap drinks and the occasional free hot bev in the smoking area.

Who cares about the sticky floors? It’s part of the package. It’s a sign that at least you’ve got it more together than someone out there.

Would Daft Friday have been the same this year without Hive?

I suppose my major qualm with it is that there’s no signal or Wi-Fi within the walls, making the loss of your mates a traumatic, expensive and lonely affair. Like, seriously, what is up with that? It’s just a recipe for disaster. Why, why do it? And why not have Wi-Fi? This is perhaps one of the biggest reasons Hive is ruining my life. The incessant losing of people and then not being able to contact them. You know what that makes me do? Drink.

But then again, it’s not like those Pints of Fun to drown the humiliation of being seen alone in Hive weren’t appreciated at the time. Because at Hive, everyone’s friends. Everyone is just out for a good time. And that’s what brings people back every time. It may not be classy, but it can be class.