Clubbing at home is awful now I’ve experienced uni clubbing

Why should I pay £7.10 for a vodka cranberry

The experience of clubbing before and after starting uni is very different. Before, for many people, clubbing was a Friday/Saturday night experience. Plans were made days (even weeks) in advance. When the time comes, you get yourself dolled up and prepare to pay the big bucks for a good night out.  All this changes when you get to uni. Planned nights out turn into spontaneous sessions. High heels and tight dresses turn into converses and a strategically worn pair of high waisted jeans. Willing to pay a days wages turns into filling up on pres so that you don’t have to buy a drink in the club.

The pretentious door staff 

Is it a part of their contract for every local bouncer to be a complete dick? Most bouncers in hometown clubs take pleasure in not letting in certain people, seemingly for their own evil satisfaction of seeing their victims heartbreak as their night on the raz is cut short. The bouncers that guard uni clubs, however, are celebrated for their banter and are sympathetic when you’re too sloshed to get in.


The overpricing 

Since coming to uni, most people’s perception of pricing alters significantly. Average entry is usually between £3-5, and anything more than this is deemed ridiculous to the point of a joke. You get lulled into a false sense of security when it comes to cheap drinks, and this is shattered the minute you come home. Instead of comfortably paying a cool £2 for a vodka double, your stomach drops and you actually shed a tear when the bartender tells you your drink will be half of your student loan.

The judgement 

You could turn up to the club in your uni town in a slanket for all people care. As long as you have a pound in your pocket for a jaeger bomb you’ll always be welcome. Crazy dancing is also not just acceptable but strongly  encouraged. At uni, you’ll regularly see people swinging ferociously on the poles whilst accidentally drop-kicking an innocent club-goer. Whereas at home, the most you’ll get out of a dance is a slight sway of the hips and bop of the head (when you’re not standing awkwardly by the toilets).



Running into people from your school

This doesn’t go for all school friends, just the ones you were relieved to leave behind when you left for uni. You both jump up and down excitedly and kiss on each cheek when you see each other but, inside, a part of you dies knowing that you have to spend the next 10-20 minutes asking questions about their life which you don’t care about. At uni, you can weave the crowds happily knowing you won’t bump into the girl you sat next to in year nine Science.