I went to Walkabout Wednesdays ALONE
I do have mates, promise
On the Strand, Wednesdays mean only one thing: Walkabout. Every week, we gather to knock back as many £2 drinks as humanly possible before 1am, and share inappropriate amounts of information with people we actively ignore in seminars.
But sometimes your pals just aren’t feeling it. Most people would jump ship, but I’ve come to realise there’s something inherently rewarding
If you make it until the end of the night, you leave triumphant, glowing. And that’s exactly how I felt when I went a few weeks ago. This is my journey.
It was a warm Spring’s evening, and on the tube back from work, surrounded by drunken freshers and in the mood to have a boogie, I decided to get off a few stops early and see if I too could go it alone.
Walking in was scary, but the key is to turn up like you own the place. I knew that my arrival would set the tone for the rest of the night, so I tried to strike up conversation in the queue as quickly as possible.
This wasn’t difficult, as most people were already sloshed. All you need to do is ask for a cigarette or a lighter. If you’re not into smoking, ask how long the queue has been taking, or just go full British and comment on the weather. Simple but effective, and you may have already found some pals for the night.
I soon learnt it was time to drink like you’re actually on the rugby team. Flying solo, I ordered significantly more drinks than usual to take the edge off what was an incredibly awkward experience. The more you drink, the less you’ll want the ground to swallow you up, and the queues at the bar are so long that you’ll also get some valuable small talk time.
Next, I made the most of the toilets. We all know that the ladies toilets are a social hub. Take your time in there, get chatting to the girl using the sink next to you, maybe offer up a compliment or two. I killed a lot of time perusing through the many goods of the legendary toilet attendant, and left smelling all kinds of fabulous.
Dance like you’re in the final of strictly. I may have been in a room full of dancing people, but I felt very much like I was dancing alone. This is because I was dancing alone. But the more I moved, the it easier got and other dancers came swarming. The key here is to head to the stage. It might sound like hell, but the people up there are almost always the most drunk and having an absolute blast. They’re there to throw some shapes and they love it when you join in.
Pinpoint your chosen areas. Be it the smoking area, the bar, the toilets or the booths, go to your location of choice and get talking whenever/wherever where you can to whoever will listen. Invade every conversation you can. I found that eventually, the night reaches a point where words aren’t even necessary, and conversing through dance can be just as effective.
I couldn’t stay until the very end. I quickly said goodbye to my new “lifelong” pals and gave my final encore. When I think back to it I do think I actually had quite a hoot.