Overheard at London unis: The sequel we’ve all been waiting for

My dear students of London Town, the time has come. Seeing as though you all loved our first overheards so much, we thought that it was only right to bless you with another. But this time, we’ve made it better – we’ve gathered the weirdest, poshest and most iconic overheards that London students have to offer during this failure of a school year.

From borderline psychotic isolation wonderings to the old-but-gold classics that never fail to stream out of rich kids’ mouths, it seems that the only way to improve this never-ending lockdown is with an Overheards Part 2.

Please, buckle your seatbelts and allow me to take you on a journey of carrots, virginity and supporting social cleansing:

“Do you think I could apply for EC if I made myself get Rona?” – UCL

We’ve all been here this exam season. Somehow, the idea of licking Tube escalators in the hopes of having to isolate for 2 weeks is more preferable than a fast-approaching deadline that you are incredibly unprepared for.

Being able to self-certify on the EC form has been God’s gift to all, and these UCL essay writers have been absolutely using and abusing it for a month straight. However, with great power comes great responsibility. The ability to push deadlines back has got to their heads, and they now believe that they are completely untouchable and that their deadlines have simply evaporated into thin air. Such superior beings would never both with something as minor as ‘university’.

3000 words due tomorrow? Sucks to be you I’ve got EC love x

“Rachel is definitely a frog” – Queen Mary

For sure said on day 57 of isolation in a halls of residence somewhere in the depths of East London.

Queen Mary students are already the slightly batshit step cousins of the London uni community, but this one is definitely pushing it. I can only assume that it refers to the trend suggesting that everyone either looks like a frog or a rat that lit up our lives during Lockdown 1. Oh to be back in the good old days.

If I was stuck somewhere on a 5th floor in Stepney Green, I too would probably revert back to labelling every single friend and family I’ve ever known as either a frog or a rat. I mean, it’s quite literally the opposite of anything productive (nearly on par with 6 hour Tik Tok sprees), but hey, us sane Londoners can’t be ones to judge.

I can only say good luck to you poor QMUL souls, and pray that you manage to string coherent sentences together when this is all over.

“I can’t believe you threw the carrot away you know it’s my favourite raw vegetable!” – Goldsmiths

Coincidence? I think not. We all knew that there were some secretly dutty Goldsmiths students stealing carrots from the 29 tonne pile that was dumped on the campus last year, and look where we are now. Raw carrot addictions.

At the time, these people thought they were nothing short of entrepreneurs. Free and unharmed carrots just lying around? Don’t mind if I do. But bearing the burden of having enough carrots to feed a zoo in your fridge can be tough, and attachments are formed.

I do appreciate a good carrot here and there, but this is a little extreme. However, I do admit that I have formed some sort of bond with this poor Goldsmiths student just wanting to express their hierarchical views on raw vegetables. I hope you get through this.

“I’m in a war with the girl trying to take my silent room seat” – UCL

We’ve all seen the dramatic UCLove saga about reserving seats for the Student Centre, from the die-hards that would murder a man for not showing up at 9am on the dot to the struggling simps who erratically book slots without any intention of remembering when they are.

No matter which group you belong to, one thing is certain. If you repeatedly sit in the same seat, there needs to be some sort of legal binding between you and that seat. Anyone else even venturing near it should be shot on sight. It’s an act of treason, simple as.

This silent room dweller probably thinks a one-on-one duel is a pretty reasonable request to settle the matter of who gets to keep the seat. In the mean time, she’ll keep ranting on UCLove about it, attempting to find literally anyone else in the world that cares.

*snorting coke* “You know I’m actually a pretty big fan of gentrification” – LSE

Casually thrown into conversation at a Friday night house party in a duplex Notting Hill apartment, this sentence is one our London-uni ears are well accustomed to hearing, and it means only one thing: this person is a grade A prick with severe mummy issues.

They haven’t actually spent enough time in our *poor person world* to realise that literally no one living in social housing belongs to a terrifying murderous drug cartel and is out to personally assassinate them. What they do know, however, is that the family signet ring is way too precious to be waving around these peasants, so they avoid anywhere that isn’t Mayfair or Chelsea like the plague and turn to bitching about the working class behind closed doors instead.

This guy will probably never know what a student loan is, but it’s not like him or any of his bourgeoisie LSE chums would concern themselves with that anyway. His uni years will entail more overpriced coke than tuition fees are worth and afterwards he will still be guaranteed a top job at daddy’s property firm, causing him to believe that he has made his way to the top due to good old-fashioned hard work.

Can someone just get him to break yet more lockdown rules – because he is ‘above them’ – and disappear to his private ski chalet so no one has to listen to him? Sincerely, everyone.

“I actually hate that people call us all virgins, where did they get this from” – Imperial

Oh Imperial students, I really don’t have the heart to tell you.

Besides from the fact that you’d be more likely to get turned on by Periodic table equations than by, God forbid, another human being, I’m just finding it hard to see where the virgin thing comes from. I thought you were all absolute studs?

They’re a lovely bunch, it must be said, but the Imperial lot are to UoL what the eternally-friendzoned ‘nice guy’ friend is to every friend group ever. Sweet, intelligent, and frankly a massive upgrade to that LSE rugby fuckboy that Stacey’s been shagging, but painfully overlooked in every situation.

They’ll be the ones laughing after graduation though, when the rest of us are struggling to find a job in the local supermarket let alone actually start a career and they’re becoming self-made millionaires.

“When I build the west wing…” – UCL

Imagine being able to call anywhere in your house a ‘wing’, let alone having to differentiate between east and west ones because they’re just THAT far apart. Well, apparently UCL students don’t have to imagine it, and instead they get frustrated at the 500 step trek it takes to get from one side of their mansion to the other.

Mostly harmless, if we’re discounting the distant nobility status that they could flex on you at any given moment, this person is probably an international student that came to London with the expectation of Hugh Grant lookalikes and quirky RP accents, but was instead bombarded with mulleted ketheads from somewhere random in the Midlands.

As a result she embraces the British lifestyle of all-night kitchen benders during the week and still ends up looking pristine at her parents’ ball in the countryside on the weekends. A scarily powerful skill, and one only a true aristocratic UCL alumni can master.

In old age, she will sip tea in her west wing and look back fondly on her days as a trashy British uni student while thanking God that the money she inherited made up for the shocking grades she got.

“I found my mum on Tinder and super-liked her” – UCL

Um, I’m not quite sure what to say here??? I know lockdown’s been tough on romance opportunities but has it really got to this?

PS. Seek help.

“I’ve got a beer collection under my bed with the tinned soup and lentils” – SOAS

Clearly preparing for the Covid apocalypse that they saw happening in their dreams or on illuminati Facebook groups that reference the film 2012 with the numbers switched, this SOAS student really needs to chill.

After spending their days learning about the politics of some unheard-of Asian country and chugging beers at SOAS bar, this lot have been in a downward spiral since March 2020. Now, it’s got so bad that they don’t even remember what Hare Krishna food tastes like, and try to replicate it with the most low-effort vomit-inducing tinned lentil curry that they can find.

To be honest I relate hard to building up the alcohol collection over lockdown though. It really is the only thing we have left.

“My dad won’t proofread my cover letter because I’m getting another piercing” – City

Ah yes, because everything in life centres around business internships and therefore it’s only fair that a tiny hole in your ear should leave you jobless and disowned. This person has spent the last decade planning their rise to fame through social media entrepreneurship though, and will absolutely not let boomers get in the way.

I admire the effort, but apart from being editor of the school newspaper in Year 5 and getting 2 weeks of marketing work experience three years ago, your cover letter isn’t really selling me anyway. Like your uni, you will always compete with more experienced people while never quite doing anything of note yourself.

“Wanna join our home workout sessions? They’re called Rezzy B’s” – UCL

Forever the masters of home counties vocabulary mixed with (what they call ‘authentic’) roadman slang, during this lockdown UCL’s gym boys have evidently advanced from saying “Rah that’s so jokes” to abbreviating every single Covid term known to man. Locky D, Vaccy C, Sanny T – you name it, they’ve done it to death. And now, may I present to you: resistance bands, better known as ‘Rezzy B’s’. Excuse me while I gag.

Home workouts are admittedly a bit of a saviour right now for the insane people that actually enjoy the feeling of being near-death, but this is just nitty behaviour. Please, instead of posting 10 minutes’ worth of topless pouts on your insta story with massive staged weights in the background could you just consider how beneficial it is to anyone’s lives.

I’ll give you a hint – it isn’t x

“There’s big toilet roll drama in the flat” – UCL

There’s nothing worse than coming back home from your daily walk or trip to the library and witnessing a significant lack of toilet paper in the house. In the hours that follow, every flatmate has scavenged the last bits of kitchen roll and hidden them under their beds alongside a sneaky toilet roll that they keep for emergencies. What a sad little life, Jane.

It is this kind of drama that I can only imagine happening right now in London student flats. Within the hour, every group chat will know how many friendships were ruined over a bit of tissue, and there may even be a moving out. Clearly your sanity is out the window, so we can only really hold on to personal hygiene necessities now.

“I’m not getting the bus. What am I, poor?” – London South Bank

Very classic from LSBU students, but absolutely not limited to 90% of the London student population. This person travels exclusively by Uber and, if they’re feeling daring, the Tube – but only if it’s accompanied with a selfie of their designer face mask next to the tube stop name. Mention the bus, and you are no longer allowed within two feet of them.

Is thriving now that public transport is deemed ‘unsafe’ during lockdown because they never really trusted people with a Cockney accent anyway. Also believes that now no detriment has been confirmed and online learning was down for a month, there’s not much point in finishing their degree anyway.

This person will happily live in their studio flat in Vauxhall living off daddy’s money forever, so won’t even realise that uni is back on until they’re 25 working as a HR assistant for the shits and giggles.

Once again, thank you for joining me on this wild overheards ride. I think I can safely say that London uni students will never run out of stupid things to say, and I for one feel honoured to report them to you all.