A love letter to Switch – we will never forget you

I’m sure you’ve all heard the news: Switch is over. Well sort of. It’s rumoured to be returning soon but nevertheless it’s sudden and tragic disappearance has caused a deep pain in all our hearts.

Those poor freshers, who are now venturing into Leamington for their first taste of ‘adult life’ desperate to see what it feels like to be off your noggin in a dark, hazy, laser lit room, will probably never know the glory of Switch.

Being stopped by twelve drug dealers as soon as you’re within a mile radius of the place

Remember walking to The Assembly last year where you’d meet three shady gentlemen who will whisper “coke, MD, E” seductively in your ear? If you hadn’t already invested in your nose-powder or bomb of choice, you’d buy a minute bag of low-grade MDMA cut with some hamster de-wormer for an exorbitant price.

You took some substances

Johnny from the floor below you in halls always took his too early and seemed like he was having far more fun than everyone else. You’d take a look at the little ziplock bag filled with scrupled bits of Rizla and because you didn’t want people to think you’re a big girl’s blouse, you’d swallow one of the bombs. It always tasted awful. Good times.

Being confused by the cloak room in the middle of the dance floor

Like, really, that was weird, so not such a fond memory of that.

The music got intense

All you’ll knew about the guy nodding his head at the decks on stage was that his name has no vowels in it. Is that cool? What is cool? You don’t know, but you do know that the music at Switch sounded like a washing machine full of small pebbles. You could feel the bass punching you in the chest making you dance out of fear and confusion.

When it started to kick in

You chest would feel light, your heart would beat fast. You’d feel like you’re skydiving but you’re not skydiving. You’d want to hug everyone. You’d tell all of your friends that “this is amazing”. You’d start to chew your face. You wouldn’t stop chewing your face for the rest of your night.

You got super into it

“THIS GUY IS AMAZING. I LOVE THIS BEAT. WHO IS HE?” You’d shout but no one is listening anymore because you won’t shut the fuck up.

You’d escape for a quick smoke

Floating to the decidedly poor excuse for a smoking area with a herd of people all two-stepping, you would marvel at the existence of stairs. Once outside, you’d twitch in the corner of your friends-on-a-night-out-smoking-circle and pretend you’re a hardened chainer and choke on a bent Marlboro Gold.

Everything subsequent was a blur

From this point memories go hazy. You’d be semi-conscious of rugby-tackling that guy from your ‘Intro to Politics’ seminar who you had occasionally spoken to. You may have done the migraine skank out of time to some Garage even though it hasn’t been cool since 2009. You don’t recall anything else. You did, however, have a great time.

You always regretted pre-drinking so much

You didn’t think the worst thing that could happen would be anything that bad. You were wrong. You’d get lost and wander around the Assembly in the throws of an bewildered state with acute nausea. Everything is bright and your arms feel weird. Where is your nose? Where are your friends? You would bump into a decidedly sober fourth year at 3am who reluctantly agrees to take you home for your own safety.

Then you would sit and hallucinate in the taxi on the way home

Are those wing mirrors or bonsai trees? Is the driver’s nose on the back of his head? Is this seat eating me?

You wouldn’t sleep, and then you’d have a hangover fit to summon the demons back from hell

The only thing you won’t miss is the come down.