Undercover Fresher: Opening Ball

Aching feet. Alcohol-soaked formal attire. A newfound appreciation for B. Jannettas Scottish Tablet ice cream. This is what the Opening Ball has left me with.

After arriving at the reasonably early hour of half 8 (hello, I was not missing out on the free champagne), I waltzed into the huge tent to find scores of classy, well-dressed students. For most of us, the first hour of the ball was about the classiest we were going to look (and act) all night.

Let’s be honest – who didn’t enter and exit the ball five times for yet another free champagne from the strapping young lads of the Kate Kennedy Club? Who did that? Surely not me. It’s safe to say that as the night progressed and the quantity of champagne flutes dwindled, people became less classy and got more trashy. The ball slowly morphed from a Hogwarts-esque experience to the likes of a slightly classier Lizard.

Pleasantly surprised by the B. Jannettas ice cream and not ever one to pass up on free food, I soon took to holding my drink in one hand whilst balancing my ice cream cone in the other. Priorities, after all. And then … the music started.

The beat seemed to arrest people’s bodies as they started bouncing to the techno rhythm and heading in to the tent to shake their collective ‘thang’.

I got a pleasant welcome to the dance floor as a drunkenly-aimed drink missed the person next to me and thoroughly soaked me. I’m choosing to believe that the thrower of said drink was just overcome with happiness at the purpose of the ball (it was to help charity, after all), so I’ll forgive. Once.

As the techno jams boomed on and people took to devouring each others faces like it was the Zombie Apocalypse, I started to sober up. Unfortunately for me, that meant that I got to look over my friends who were all TDTF (Too Drunk To Function).

All the while, I kept trying to figure out the mysterious shroud that surrounds the Kate Kennedy Club. Everywhere I looked, I saw furtive glances and code names and secret handshakes. I believe that at one point, I drunkenly asked one of the Kate Kennedy lads if I could join their Fort Knox of a society. Surprisingly, I was rejected.

Even with all of the free ice cream and champagne, I would have to admit (rather pathetically) that the highlight of my night was taking off my heels. Don’t mock me. All of my fellow ladies know that that feeling is heaven on earth.