Freshers; some things I hate about you.

Opinion editor SAM WALSH wastes no time beating around the bush

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We’ve all been there. It’s Freshers’ Week and everything’s new and you’re out to impress.

You’ve all had a few pints and a jäger or two and you’re pretty certain the wide eyed girl or guy opposite is outrageously flirting with you. You probably need another drink to make sure.

It’s often your first few brave steps into a world where ma and pa are no longer there to bail you out if it all goes wrong, you’re nervous, and perhaps you’re just overcompensating because you want everyone to like you, but you’re just making an arse of yourself.

If you’re looking like this, you’re doing it wrong…

I’m sure your gap yah was just the most inspiring year of your life, and that the plight of the rare seven legged wingless Malaysian bum beetle that’s hunted for sport in three countries should be better covered by the mainstream media.

I’m quite certain the toilet you built for that town in the outback is indeed saving lives and revolutionising the broken community, but let’s be honest, no one cares, and we’d all like you more if you let some one else speak. Just for a minute.

Stop ordering ‘a double JD on the rocks’, you’re not James Bond, you just sound like someone who’s never ordered a drink before in their life and I will look for any excuse not to serve you.

Those kids in Indonesia wouldn’t be so impressed now eh?

Stop alternating between thinking you’re God’s Gift and Jonny Concrete, getting with a legless first year doesn’t make you special, and starting a fight at Pop Tarts doesn’t make you a big man. This isn’t your school playground any more, and you may look about fourteen, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like it.

Perhaps this is just the jaded view of a panicky man with no idea what to do after his third year, or maybe I’m just prematurely at a time in my life where I’d rather be in the Hally House with a pint of something pale and tasty, and anyone boisterous or fun with innocent eyes and still able to go out three nights in a row reminds me of a time where I only needed forty percent and could afford to go to exams with a hangover.

I’m definitely old well before my time, but freshers, to me, you’re still all tosspots.