One night stands should be consigned to history

This tale starts with me; a young Muslim male watching Skins, stunned and shocked – dreaming about university. My first night of freshers’ was a David Lynch-dream like experience; sober and socially awkward, clinging to the sides of the club like a wallflower, I observed the freshers who were locked in one another’s arms kissing each other aggressively.

I asked myself: ‘do these people know each other, I thought we were all new here?’ Looking back I laugh – I was so naive and innocent. But my BA years taught me: one night stands are not what they seem.

The social dynamics of them are actually really awkward. You keep a straight face and casually ask if the other person ‘would like to come back to yours’. You’re both more than aware what this signifies, but you have to play dumb anyway, so you say things like ‘yeah sure I’d like to come back, maybe we can play Scrabble, or Netflix and Chill or something’ (bear in mind its 6.30 AM). One boy my in halls was renowned for luring girls back to his by offering toast – just plaint toast -and him and his Hovis were an incredibly successful duo.

And then you get home and realise there are the logistical aspects of a one night stand you hadn’t considered: did they even change their pants that day; did you, did they shower? Did you brush your teeth? What if the person has three nipples?

A mate once told me how, amidst his one night stand, this girl sporadically farted ‘point blank’. And this is all before you wake up and realise the Beyonce you slept with last night has undergone a complete transformation, and you’ve woken up to someone completely different; amidst your shock you trigger an asthma attack, but wait – you don’t have your asthma pump, because it’s not your house. I’m sure it’s the same for girls waking up to grimy boys.

At best, a one night stand is a gamble. Hygienically you don’t know where the other person has been. Sex is essentially ‘two instruments of urine in unison’, and you’re going to do that with a random person? Every time you have sex with someone you lose a part of your soul, like a Voldemort Horcrux: it’s the most intimate act, it’s as intimate as you can get with another human. And if you’re a gentle soul like me; you’ll end up getting hurt by girls only looking for temporary male nourishment. I may sound like a priest but trust me: sex really should be between a married couple or at least two people committed to one another.

This tale started with me watching Skins, but for young people today, life is no longer like Skins. Uni is 9k a year, Student Finance grants have been cut, we graduate with 40-50k debt (with interest that accumulates daily) and we’ll be renting for a very long time before we can ever (if ever) buy a house. Our generation’s graduating with more struggles than our parents ever did; life is going to be a lot harder for us to establish.

The fun was fun whilst it lasted, but let’s start thinking wisely about one night stands. Don’t waste your time, find a special someone and start saving for a house.