Thirteen people you’ll meet at any Manchester house party

At the end of a night out, Manchester is full of students making their way back to Fallowfield to the numerous house parties on Egerton, Granville and Wellington Road. If you haven’t met these people this year, let’s face it, you need to get out more.


The wannabe DJ

His ‘set time’ is way before anyone will be there and he’s left to do his thing in the corner of an empty bedroom. He’s on virtual DJ all night, and doesn’t hesitate to drop Disclosure. God forbid.

No one is really sure what to think...

No one is really sure what to think…

The DJ

He probably won’t leave the squalor of the basement all night and you may never see his face, but according to the host he’s up and coming on the house scene of Manchester and it’s surprising you haven’t heard of him before. When the sound system breaks it’s obviously nothing to do with him.

More important that the party itself

More important than the party itself

The DJ’s mate

Enjoys the party by the DJ’s side nodding his head. He likes to think he’s a big deal and regularly hypes up his mate. Invariably holds a can of Red Stripe.

Loves a basement and a snapback

Loves a basement and a snapback

The pill head that loves everyone

He lives in the basement after taking 3 Nintendos and looks like a very excited owl. He covers you in half a litre of sweat when squeezing you tight to share his deep love for you. He wears some form of edgy headwear and asks every stranger for some water.

Clearly buzzing his tits off

Clearly buzzing his tits off

The Nos guy

He jangles when he walks and sells laughter out of a can. Every house party has at least one kid trying to earn a living out of selling laughing gas, and who can stop them when they’re the most popular person there.

Anyone for a double?

The part-time drug dealer

Another ‘popular’ student that everyone knows, but really, no one knows. They probably lived in Owens Park in 1st year and wear a retro windbreaker everywhere. They can get you anything you want, provided you don’t mind questionable white substances.

 

Prepping for a night on Granville Road

Prepping for a night on Granville

The full-time drug dealer

He carries several knives, wears a dirty Kangol waterproof and covers his dodgy haircut with a bucket hat. He doesn’t stay for long, just pops in to shift whatever he can, does a line of K, then onto the next party.

The only trace left...

The only trace left…

K hole boy/girl

There’s always one. You have no clue what’s going on in their head and you’re quite glad about it. They may as well be a new born giraffe attempting to walk for the first time; there’s no hope.

A place that no one wants to go to

A place that no one wants to go to

The needy bitch

She drank both of her bottles from New Zealand wines before the party and begged some grimy looking guy for a key of ket. You redo her makeup in attempt to make her looks a little bit less like Marilyn Manson but you’re struggling to make sense of anything she says. She makes you stay with her until she’s ready to leave.

Sort yourself out, sweetie

Sort yourself out, sweetie

The other needy bitch

She hasn’t pulled in over a week and has decided that tonight is the night. She’s desperate for a shag and has worn as little clothing as possible in an attempt to turn anyone and everyone’s heads. On failure to succeed, she’s the last to leave with hope that on of the hosts might give her a good time.

Course she'd be up for it

Course she’d be up for it

The ‘geezer’

He’s not worn a shirt in order to flaunt his steroided up body, claiming to spend hours in the gym. He’s clearly skipped legs day and needs a slap round the face.

So many vests

So many vests

The minesweeper

There’s one at every party. They seem to know no one and no one seems to know them. They’re positioned in the kitchen for the entirety of the night, missing no opportunity to grab the ends of someone else’s drink.

"Can I have a bit?"

“Can I have a bit?”

The Over Protective Host

It’s unlikely that you know hosts, but if you do, count yourself unlucky because you may have to endure the endless stories about the mess. There’s always one house owner spends the majority of their night cleaning up the carpet.

lol

lol