The truth about being a mature student
Leave out the old jokes, yeah?
We all know university is a rite of passage for most teenagers. It’s the time where 18 year olds are finally out of the cotton wool wrapped comfort of mummy and daddy’s home and are now set free into the world of clubbing and cheap Glenns vodka.
Thing is, what if you are not at the tender age of 18 at the start of uni? What if (god forbid) you were actually born a few years before the first Toy Story came out? What if clubbing isn’t actually all that new to you because you turned 23 in first year? This is an insight to what it feels like to be the rare creature that is the mature student.
The first problem we face is clubbing. It may be a shock to hear this, but to us, clubbing is no longer fun. No, it’s not because we are boring, it’s because we have been there, done that and have got the sick stained t-shirt to prove it. It’s no longer exciting to us, and the novelty of it has well and truly worn off.
We’ve done the usual pre-drink rituals, played all the drinking card games and can probably recite every ring of fire rule from every different county in our sleep.
And we do get the usual comment, “you can’t keep up with us” and “you’re too old.” Bitch I’ve been ruining my liver since 2008 when you were probably only just getting your first shitty Motorola phone.
I was necking shots way before your precious Yik Yak and Snapchat apps were even thought about being invented- way back when it was morally acceptable to listen to Lostprophets and MSN was still a thing. I don’t need a rookie like you to tell me that I can’t drink.
Of course your smugness is always justified when you are about to get into the club and a few of your 18 year old peers get turned away by the bouncers for being way too hammered. Only downside is you’ll probably be walking home on your own anyway and as you’ll get tired around 1.30am.
But one of the worst things about being a mature student has to be the “old” jokes. You know, the constant mocking of your age because you’re a few years above 18. You’ll hear the usual “You’ll be needing your zimmer frame by your next birthday” or the old “grey hair” gag that are all quite honestly incredibly tedious and boring by now.
We try explain to them that time will go really quick, and before they know it they’ll be a ripe mid-twenty year old just like us. Obviously, they don’t listen, and who can blame them? They’ll realise in third year how foolish they were to fret and waste their energy on most of the shit they are now.
Don’t get me wrong, I love university, what comes with it all my friends – but I hope they learn to not underestimate us ‘oldies’ or take the piss too much.
At the end of the day, we will be the ones giving you relationship advice, teaching you to cook and will be the shoulder to cry on when you’re all drunk and crying about the guy you shagged last week ignoring your snapchat.