As semester two is well underway, it seems only right to reflect on the Freshers’ Week experience following an equally traumatic refreshers. As much as I would like to forget everything from that fateful week, every fresher will hopefully be able to relate in some way (if not, I’m happy for you).
Getting robbed in a ball pit
To start freshers week off on the right foot (pun intended), 4/6 of my flat, myself included, became victims to the Howler’s ball pit – five shoes in total stolen and a bag lost. Anything lost in the depths of the ball pit is generally not worth looking for unless you’re after a new strain of disease.
I have heard that the ball pit tested positive for HIV and I do not doubt that it’s true. Although my flatmate had to use her passport for the remainder of freshers week, I felt just as much shame as she did when whipping out my provisional (still do x)
We got needle spiked…
The next of the humbling experiences, perhaps even traumatic, is me and my flatmate being needle spiked on day three. Unfortunately no matter how gracefully you drop to the floor at 11pm, everyone will just assume that you took it too far at pres – another canon event. Shout out to the boy who asked the group of girls sat around us if they were playing duck duck goose, that was a good one x
I’ve got nothing left x
As a fresher who has never had to budget before (thank you Mum and Dad), realising that it’s either club or food shop puts you in a Sophie’s Choice kind of situation, especially when student loan doesn’t come in until halfway through freshers when you’ve already spent your life savings on £1 jagers in Tropicana and cheesy chips.
But it’s obviously club. Bringing your own drink to the club to save money is always a good idea, unless you’re stupid like me and always forget to hide it, meaning it gets taken off you every single time. When I stopped being tight and realised that a £1.98 mixed berry vodka from spoons wouldn’t stretch the budget too much, an old man took it out of my hand and started drinking it right in front of me. I think that pretty much sums up the Five Swans but I’ll still be there tonight x
My star feature in street interview at a Church
Walking to uni for the first time can be daunting enough, especially if you’re still drunk from the night before while trying to figure out which way the google maps arrow is pointing (I still can’t do this on a good day). But being approached on the street for an interview (can we please denormalise this? x) really is the last straw. A free slice of pizza for sharing your opinion on Jesus is not worth the embarrassing Instagram reel feature, unless you spent all of your loan as soon as you got it – you probably did.
The constant promotion posters
Finally, being unfamiliar with the Newcastle club events meant feeling slightly concerned when receiving swingers posters under my door. However, a swingers Thursday is no more thrilling than a trop Monday – unless you go in the ball pit. But any club night isn’t complete unless you fall down the stairs – catch me on the floor in Tup Tup on a Wednesday night x
