Tab Tries: Corp Sober
It’s Sheffield’s grottiest night out. But what’s it like when you can actually see?
Ever wondered what experiencing Corp on a Wednesday night is like in the light of sobriety? So have we. So The Tab went down, clad in obligatory white shirts, to experience the squalor.
Robyn and I tentatively entered the scummy world of Corporation dead on midnight, having paid a pound to the Corp Booth Witch at the door.
“The infamous Corp Slime clung to our shoes like a child to an emotionally distant parent”
The main room was packed with swaying, sweaty bodies that collided like damp billiard balls in the gloom. We were there a little too early for the Corp Sweat Rain, but you could still taste it in the air. The infamous Corp Slime clung to our shoes like a child to an emotionally distant parent, whilst in a corner a man clutched at his head in a vodka induced epiphany.
In the dark humidity that comes from sweat and spilt flourescent pints, we made our way up to the second floor of Corp, a hallowed area that I have never managed to negotiate my drunken self to. Ignoring the alcohol-fueled onset of bromance down the hall, we took to the toilets.
Overheard in the Corp Toilets
Strange things happen here. In the presence of a couple of tall ‘lads’, one poor, confused soul turned to me and said ‘I used to kick box for Team GB, but these guys…they’re…just…too…tall…’ another screamed, ‘What is this?! The tall society’s social?!’ A fine example of Skool Disco wit.
“You’re an incredibly attractive man”
When the initial shock of having real giants in Corp had dissipated, talk quickly turned to Uni v Hallam. ‘Hallam just seem way more…y’know…down to earth’ offered one beshirted gent in the middle of his wee. ‘Uni is just for Oxbridge rejects.’ ‘Hey!’ came a cry from behind him, ‘I’m an Oxbridge reject!’. ‘Oh yeah?’ said the controversial figure as he tucked away his genitals. I braced myself. ‘Well I’m fucking my best friend.’
Pandemonium. Suddenly everyone had something to say, most of which were noises along the lines of ‘NAAAAWWWWHHHHHHH’. After twenty seconds there was a lull, in which a third character placed his unwashed wee hand on the shoulder of the Friend Fucker, looked deep into his eyes and said in a low voice, ‘You’re an incredibly attractive man, you can fuck whoever you want.’ A touching scene.
After watching two people faceplant the same door, and fall head first into the toilet, I felt perhaps it was time to be moving on.
Negotiating the treacherous Corp stairways was much easier sober, but people falling down them was also much less funny, and a brings you a whole lot closer to calling 999.
As we began our descent with our tails between our legs, a girl accosted me and screamed in my face. Unsure what to do, I screamed back, a little half heartedly. She turned to her friend. As we made our way to the exit we were escorted by these two Corp Harpies, madly screaming, ‘You’re not drunk enough! You’re not drunk enough! You’re not drunk enough for Corp! For Corp!’ Who knew there was a song for this situation?
Across the road from the entrance there was a girl lying on her back with a group of friends gathered around her. It seems she had fallen victim to the Corp Harpies’ calls and got far, far, far too drunk. After calling her an ambulance, we got a taxi home. We had survived a mere hour in Corp sober, but I feel our lives have been changed forever.