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Everything we miss about first year nights out

Let me stay in Nabzy’s without worrying about the 86

We didn't realise how good we had it. The whole "I only need 40 per cent" motto, the lack of guilt when we missed every lecture that week and of course, the sesh. We may have complained when the RA shut down pres and when your friends wanted to move onto Baa Bar way too soon, however were were young, naive and not drowning in deadlines. Those were the days.

The joy of the undiscovered

This is certainly a feeling that can't be recreated. The days in freshers when Concert Square was a mystical maze, where we'd actually get excited by promoters offering free shots. We even showed anticipation for the other end of town, before realising nobody under 40 really enters Mathew Street. Nowadays, we know the songs that are gonna be played, we know the faces that are gonna be present, it's like a kinda crap story your auntie tells you over and over again.

Student fest didn't seem shit back then

Nights out were spontaneous

You didn't need to plan it with seven working days notice, you could have that sudden urge for Jagerbombs at 9pm and be in town for 10pm. Being in halls also meant friends were close by for pres, so instead of scurrying along Smithdown in a downpour, you were just a block away from the heart of the party. You knew that even if your flatmate promised they'd make their 9am history seminar that their vow would be a thing of the past.

Netflix over necking shots

Seshing every night was totally acceptable

This defo didn't make you seem like a functioning alcoholic back then. Every morning would begin by trawling through Cool It Liverpool's page finding the horrendous photos you were undoubtedly in. Now it seems your granny at the bingo has a better social life than you, as your pyjamas and slippers are worn way more than your super cute mesh top.

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Sunday night out? Go on then

Responsibilities? What responsibilities?

So what if you hadn't completed your coursework due for tomorrow, you knew you could copy your mate's an hour before the deadline. Nowadays, if you even dared to ask for your friend's work because you were out on the lash, they'd just sneer at you. Turning up to a lecture half-asleep would be the joke of the group chat, now you just know that every second you missed being hungover is a few percent that can take away from your 2:1 desire.

First years, just don't take it for granted. Because we did, why were we such fools? In the words of Take That, I just want you back for good. RIP the real sesh, gone but not forgotten, always in the Liverpool second and third years' hearts.