Every type of person you will ever meet in Pilks

At Luff, Pilks is the place to be. It’s what Central Perk is to Friends – the ultimate hang out. 

Everyone used to go there in the hope of being put on the uni’s Spotted: Loughborough Library page before it got shut down, whereas now people proclaim their love for their library girlfriend or boyfriend on Yik Yak.

Each and every person who steps foot into our beloved Pilks will fall into some sort of category, ranging from the monumentally overworked Finalist to the silly fresher who doesn’t know better.

The despairing Finalist

Finalists will be sitting in the dungeons of Pilks, crying into their dissertation notes wondering where it all went wrong.

They’re likely to have been in Pilks since the beginning of the week, so if you see them offer them cups of tea and a warm blanket. They’ll probably smell pretty bad as they wouldn’t have washed or brushed their teeth for a few days, so offer them some Peppermint Extra before you go on your way.

Don’t spend too long with them otherwise they’ll latch onto you and force you to read their dissertation proposal. Even if you tell them it’s amazing they’ll cry and snot all over you – just like your drunk ex-girlfriend at FND.

The last time they received any kind of love or affection was from their mum three weeks ago, so be prepared for them to cuddle into you as soon as the opportunity arises.

The budding socialite

Socialites spend their time walking from table to table, chatting to people they know – which seems to be everyone. They’re the Pilks BNOC’s – they aren’t the usual campus celebs, as anywhere else across Luff no one knows who they are, but as soon as they set foot into the library, you would think they’re running for the next Presidential election.

They always have an exceptionally loud laugh, with a smile that stretches half way across the room. Their presence is unavoidable.

Just like Marmite, you either love them or you hate them. You might find them the King or Queen of Banterland, and genuinely enjoy their company as you use them as a distraction from your essay on Socrates.

Or you may want to pour your piping hot coffee over them and watch them cry in pain, due to how they’ve spent the last 30 minutes leant over the table in front of you with their Calvin Klein underwear in your face.

No one cares how great your skiing holiday was. Please just let us get on with our work.

The obnoxiously loud group

They’re even worse than the Socialites, as instead of one there’s at least four of them who will not shut up about how Chanelle got the latest diamontes stuck onto her three-inch long acrylics.

The Loud Group were the people at your secondary school who would spend lunch time blasting DJ Boonie out of their Blackberry’s and get into fights at school discos.

By some stroke of luck, they got into the same uni as you, and now you have to put up with them for at least another three years.

They use our beloved Pilks to create Powerpoint presentation’s in the hope that they’re gonna pass their BTEC assignment. Deep down, you secretly wish they would fail and drop out so you never have to hear their booming voices again.

The mature student

They gave up their comfortable 30k-a-year job in Accountancy to go back to uni and study English. They cannot be trusted.

Even though you see them nearly everyday, you’re still always slightly suspicious when you see Maureen or Barry stroll into Pilks, with their soup flask that was designed specifically by their five-year-old Annabelle.

They’re smugly irritating as they know absolutely everything. They try and be the Socialite but everyone ignores them as they know they’ll be stuck with them for the rest of the day, and have to listen to them drone on about how funny your unfunny lecturer is.

They always seem to have their lives on track, walking around Pilks as if they regularly take their child’s ADHD medication which is the only way they can spice up their seemingly boring lives.

Maureen and Barry can be found regularly going for cigarette breaks and engaging in flirty conversations with the librarians about last night’s Coronation Street.

The coffee head

We can all in some ways relate to this Pilks-goer, as if you’ve never had a coffee-fuelled library session then you’re doing university wrong.

As you walk past them, you’ll get the smell of coffee beans and mints, as that’s all they would have digested within the last 24 hours.

These people are the type of guys who when they were kids their parents would regard an A as a fail, that as they’ve become adults they cannot handle the pressure. Some people take drugs, others could fund the entirety of Starbucks’ employees with their addiction – we all have our poison, and for these guys it’s pure, black coffee.

Coffee heads can be spotted from the other side of Pilks as they’ll be twitching so bad that their poor little heads will bop up and down continuously.

Unfortunately, these guys do not have library friends. They’ll always be alone so do not go near them, as they’ll look at you with deeply confused, bloodshot eyes and will not understand any words other than Americano, Espresso or Cappuccino.

The misguided Fresher

Why are you even in here? You’re in first year. Get out. Go and bask in your freedom. Go outside, put a traffic cone on your head, ivent a dance routine to Bieber’s new banger. I don’t care, just be free. You’re just taking up valuable space by working on that 1000 word “essay”.

The library boy/girlfriend

Oooh, library boyfriend just walked in again. I always love how he pretends not to know me and walk straight by without a word. He’s just playing hard to get, and I like that. Still, I wish he would acknowledge me once in a while. It sometimes seems like he doesn’t even know who I am…