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What to expect from a typical night out at everyone’s favourite: Soho Rooms

‘Should we just go Soho?’

You've all been there. Sat in your PJs ready to take a post-uni nap, fluffy socks on and a brew in hand ready to get into bed and get that night’s sleep for the 9am tomorrow. Then there's the knock on the door and you know exactly what's coming. Only one word needs to be said. "Soho?"

Next thing you know you’re stood in that house sized sauna, two blue trebs in hand, belting out Country Roads and you don’t even remember getting on the Metro or down your accommodation lift.

To feel as if you're in the middle of the Amazon Rainforest with the humidity

The moment you get past the bouncers is one none of us can forget. That first hit of humidity that is like no other, our favourite kind of heat. You may all enter the doors freezing cold in the winter of the North, but you all leave dripping in sweat and sometimes it's not even our own after being dragged through the Soho crowd.

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No matter how hard you try, it's always got to be two blue trebs and a Jäger

And once you've finally made it to the bar after what seems like the entire three years of your degree, it's time to reward yourselves with literally the best thing since sliced bread.

Two blue trebs and a Jäger.

It's either £7.50 for a days worth of meals, or saving it for the drink none of us actually know the name of other than to yell "the blue one please" at the bartenders. We all know those pesky trebs will win us over. Again.

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You will lose your friends no matter what

Three floors to choose from.

And it can be a difficult choice. It’s a toss-up between braving the stairs or staying safely on the bottom floor.

Of course you take the infamous stairs, which definitely makes you feel way more drunk than you already are.

Your whole group is clutching onto each other to make sure no one falls or gets lost in the hustle and bustle of the rahs. But by the top of the stairs half of your mates are missing and so you spend the rest of your night glued to the phone trying to work out where the fuck they've disappeared to.

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Your entire night will be spent in the toilet queue so you may as well make some new friends whilst you're at it

You've downed your drinks because you didn't feel drunk enough but now it's time to 'break the seal'.

So that means getting in that queue for the toilets. And you always end up telling someone your life story and feeling like they're your best mate. It's like freshers' friends but in Soho. You know you'll never speak to them again but it was nice while it lasted.

Your hair will be covered in sweat and other peoples drinks

It's a 99 per cent chance that by now you will have had someone's drink poured over you.

You’re about as sticky as the floor and know you wont be getting up for your 9am at this point. You've spent half the night stood at the bar or in the toilet queue and you can feel the Jäger from your treb deal about to reappear. Not the best look in the middle of Floho.

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You will see so much and not bat an eyelid at it

Actually taking a moment to look around in Soho and you will see that there are all sorts of people that enter Soho.

Someone's bawling their eyes out over an ex, that kid who always sits half asleep in the back row of your lectures is throwing up and at least five people basically having a drunk pile on in as they all fall down the stairs. What a view.

In all honesty do any of us actually ever remember getting back home? We wake up at 12 with Kanye's Gold Digger literally digging a hole in your skull and the remnants of the blue treb remain on your tastebuds.

But what's there to remind you of your night is your lovely Internet banking statement telling you exactly how many trebles you bought last night.

It's back to square one though, because for some reason, only one word echoes through your head… "Soho?"