I’m in fourth year and went to Viper for the first time

When I tell people I’ve never been to Viper I’m met with gasps, confusion and dramatic pauses.

I’m in my fourth year and clubbing isn’t really my thing, but I’m constantly being told how much I’m missing out on, how much I’ll love it and how it’s something every Glasgow student has to do.

But after four years of being told it’s “like a right of passage”, I decided to see what all the fuss was about.  I got myself some cheap wine for pres, and decided to take the jump and go to Viper. Here’s how it went down:

Am I really here?

I had no idea what to wear

My aggro began when I realised I had nothing to wear. I called my little (and much cooler) sister twice, stressed about what to wear and what even happens on a night out. I have two modes of dress normally – uber casual (gym clothes, vintages tees, stretchy jeans etc) or smart and artsy (cashmere, silk shirts, retro silhouettes, tailored dresses, jumpsuits). Neither of which are apparently appropriate for Viper. I borrowed a top and was told to wear my jeans, unfortunately I did manage to look about 8 months pregnant (I don’t recommend Viper if you are with child) due to my boobs and the (actually lovely) top not really playing ball.

It’s all about the pre’s

My hipster side was molified by the fact that pres (still known as prinks the last time I went out) were drunk in a flat out of a jam jar. I couldn’t help but think how much this didn’t taste like the Hendricks I was used to drinking on my gap yah but hey, when in Rome. In an absolute fear about how low my alcohol tolerance has become, I ate my body weight in stir fry before leaving to promptly get lost on the way to my friend’s flat.

Viper attire

I haven’t been out regularly since I was in sixth form, as I said, I’m really really not a clubber. Back then going out to the one and only club in the area, meant high high heels and really formal short dresses. The club used to be a bingo hall and they kept the carpets – that’s rural we’re talking.

I arrived late for pres and this is how I caught up

The rugby boys were actually nice

I must confess (and believe me I’m as shocked as anyone) that the very people I thought would make the night a beer, boobs and banter fest were the ones who made it so fun. People were super friendly and there was a lot of double cheek kissing – something almost entirely absent from my life since leaving my middle class hometown.

Initial revelations included discovering I’ve gained a tolerance for gin and that my teenage love of apple Sourz hasn’t dimmed. And I have boobs no one knew about. I’m more SRC and gym than GUSA, GUU or even QMU, so it was seriously funny to be in such a unnnaayy environment, one of the rugby first team actually said “you’re in my house now” before buying me a drink.

Hearing my friends introduce me so lovingly was genuinely lovely and an unforeseen perk of my night out in Viper. People don’t really introduce people in the kind of clubs I’ve been to before. It’s more like an amorphous mass of strangers in places like Subclub.  I drank vodka and Diet Coke a because I got the absolute fear and panic ordered when I realised that duh Viper doesn’t have a scotch cocktail menu like everywhere else I go. The plastic cups and lack of wilflowers and liquors floating in my drink was at first unnerving but ultimately a practical decision when I realised how many end up on the floor.

I literally whipped my hair back and forth

The music was great, and perfect for dancing. It turns out my Viper dance style is mostly hairography. Literally, my friend’s watch got caught in my hair.  And I couldn’t help feeling like Kimmy Schmit (Netflix bae courtesy of Tina Fey) “Dancing’s about butts now!” I love dancing and Viper was so fun in this regard. This was helped by the fact that they were playing Cee lo Green and Queen bee – the last popular when I was paying attention. The height of camaraderie was the impromptu Katy Perry sing along in the queue for the ladies loo. In my previous clubbing forays I’ve missed, you know, actual recognisable music with like lyrics and a tune and stuff.

The smoking area was a welcome relief

I don’t smoke, but I was eternally grateful that the friends I was with do. Periodic quiet and fresh air was so good. As we stood in the rain and they smoked, I couldn’t help but wish Cottonrake Bakery was open for post night out food. Pastrami sandwich anyone? We did walk to 727 for chips which were incred but the queue that forms when you leave with all the other party plebs made me sad and hungry.

Then some weird stuff happened

What is happening?!

There were some weirder sides to the evening. I became obsessed with my pedometer on my iPhone. How many steps do I do on a Viper night out?? About 4000, by the way. Pretending to be part of a uni sports club (it was a Wednesday) was like taking a BuzzFeed quiz: inexplicably prompting self reflection. Am I a netball girl? Could I pass as a member of the swim team? what’s the sexiest sport? why do I care? For the record I am a solo gymmer and clearly deluded.

I stayed until it closed

We left when Viper closed which I have to say is a first for me, I’m normally in bed by the time others are pouring out onto the streets. I don’t know if it was leaving en mass or the sports team mentality of everyone there but the exodus outside was really fun, people chatted for a while and then seemed to weirdly segway into a Great Western Road cocktail party (more cheek kissing and the weird site of club clothes + winter coats).

727 we love you x

Then we trekked up GWR for some much needed post-night out food, and it was delicious.

Also does anyone actually ever call it “The Viper”?