Why clubbing on Halloween is the worst

We’re just lying to ourselves

Picture the scene: it’s October 31st and you’ve spent days planning your outfit and the last hour applying fake blood, paint and glitter to every last centimetre of your garms. You gather your mates, host the best predrinks known to mankind, and head out to the club already so fucked you’re walking like Bambi. What could possibly go wrong?

On any other of the 364 nights this year, you’d have made it. But tonight, get ready for the main events, which include: waiting 40 mins to have a piss, waiting an hour to get into the club (even though you already have tickets) and £9.50 for a double. Scary.

Why do we insist on convincing ourselves that going ‘out-out’ on Halloween is ‘the one’? It’s extra, it’s expensive, and this year Halloween had the good manners to come on a Saturday, which made it even more expensive.

But wait! There’s more. Halloween is the one night a year where the bar staff are probably going to get as wasted as you, and are just as emotional a drunk as you. Pity the bouncers who check your ID and somehow have to pick out your features among all the blood, paint and fangs. Pity yourself the next day when you check your bank and discover that 5 doubles cost more than 50 quid.

The face you make when you check your wallet after buying 1 drink

Daisy Cooper, second year at Sussex, braved going to Fright Night at the racecourse, which was probably the most hated event of all time on YikYak the morning after. She said: “Yeah, the live actors were fun and the live music was great on both inside an outside stages, but overall, It seemed like it was made out to be a lot better than it actually was. The low points of the night were the ridiculously expensive drinks prices and the stupidly long toilet queues.”

So, how do we escape? I’m not suggesting you batten down the hatches, put on your sweatpants and watch Downton Abbey next year: the way forward has to be the house party.

Your mate isn’t going to bleed your bank dry, you can probably score booze for free at a house party.

If you want to pull, someone can probably show you a pic of your new beau without costume before you shack up together, a luxury which is rarely afforded to the club goer. You can actually fucking talk to each other, too. And if you’re a lass, your chances of awkward bum groping and general gross behaviour from the opposite sex are so much lower at a house party than in Pryzm.

Thomas Coull studies at Brighton uni and went to a banging house party. He said: “There are so many reasons to go for a house party on Halloween. You get to hang out with friends of friends who are more like-minded, you can actually appreciate each other’s costumes, and you can pick your own music.”

The real monsters on Halloween are club nights. Let’s not feed them after midnight next year.