Everything that’s bound to happen on your trip to West Street Live

WSL til I die

Welcome to West Street Live: the jewel in the crown of West Street. It’s like West Street Live has a gravitational pull. Whether you actually plan to go there, were supposed to be going for ‘casual drink at the pub’, or intended to get into Corp, you will undoubtedly find yourself handing over your ID to the bouncers of WSL.

Here’s our definitive list of everything that will happen on your trip to the holy land.

You’re not really too sure how you ended up there

It’s happened to all of us. You’ve underestimated how long the Corp queue would be and after waiting another 15 minutes for Gaz to sort his hair out and stop shouting the lyrics to Mr. Brightside, it’s turned half 11. By the time the Uber’s turned up, you’ve stumbled your way to the back of the Corp queue, and the bouncer’s clocked your inebriated situation, you’ve had to join the mass of Corp rejects marching up the hill towards West Street.

Your school shirt and tie combination would have you laughed at anywhere else, but don’t worry mate, everyone in here’s on board.

You’ll befriend loads of Sheffield locals

You’ve been in the queue for no longer than five minutes and have already befriended three locals over the fact that Gaz, who already can’t stand up, is now pissing on the two people stood next to you, it’s clearly meant to be.

You’ll spend a good 10 minutes trying to decide what to drink

There’s nothing quite as aesthetically pleasing as a wall covered in 2001’s version of Word Art, and herein lies WSL’s charm. If you’ve encountered West Street Live’s extensive drinks menu, you’ll know its like a lucky dip. Who knows what’s in a ‘fab lolly’, or a ‘mangotastic’?

Close your eyes, point at one of the A4 sheets of paper on the wall, and drink what you’re pointing at. It’s the only way to decide.

You’ll get carried away and buy five different drinks

Alright, so you finally decided on not one, but five drinks. Ten minutes later and you’ve downed two ‘fab lollies’, three shots and strawpedoed an entire bottle of West Street’s signature £4 wine. But now you’ve lost all your mates in the crowd and are now doing shots with those locals you befriend. Let’s be honest, you’ve probably never been happier.

You’ve asked the bar man if he’s Serge from Kasabian three times

Yes he’s the spitting image of Serge. No he’s not Serge. And yes, he’s heard it a million times before.

You’ll probably remember nothing of the next two hours of your life

What happens between one and three in the morning are always a bit of a blur. Your mates can’t remember what happened. You can’t remember what happened. But schit bombs were a quid so your mate obviously downed five, went missing, and was discovered ten minutes later sprawled over a barrier with a massive headache. You and your mates all found it hilarious but the bouncer certainly didn’t. Just stay away from the shots mate.

Okay, so now you’ve encountered ‘The Chuck Norris’

Abort mission before it’s too late. Even 6ft Dean who’s renowned for his extra hot Nandos order is looking for the door at the thought this one. After this shot comprised of 2 inches of vodka and chilli powder you probably won’t be able to feel your legs. You pretty much won’t ever feel pain like this again, but your mates have convinced you that your situation’s stable and you probably don’t need to go to A&E. Honestly pal it’s not a myth, the Chuck Norris exists. Go on, try it.

You’ll spend half an hour queuing for the toilet

That £4 bottle of wine isn’t seeming like such a good idea anymore. Your personal space has been massively invaded as you’re squashed up to the person in front of you in the queue, along with the fact you’re going to piss yourself and you’re pretty sure the chilli powder is now in your eye – you’re going to have to accept that no matter how hard you try, there’s no escaping this half an hour long toilet queue. 

Half an hour later you’ve filled up your camera roll with mirror selfies with the toilet attendant and are currently balanced on a toilet seat writing your favourite motto on the toilet ceiling in your new £25 mac lipstick.

Toilet attendants are such babes

Someone will end up crying in the loos

This is just an inevitable part of any night. Someone’s had one too many Coco Milko cocktails, and that old song  that reminds them of their ex comes on. You’ve decided that the middle of the dancefloor in a room full of locals chanting the lyrics to Come on Eileen isn’t the place for weeping. Retreat to the loos. Stat.

Time to retreat to Adnans

After another three tequila shots and downing the rest of that half-drunk Red Stripe you found on the bathroom floor, you’ve been reunited with your mates and are dancing out of West Street Live. Conga across to Adnans and get yourself a hefty kebab to soak up all that booze.

Though it’s safe to say you’re probably not making your 9am.