1.34am, fielding mobile numbers from “Alex Durham” whilst clutching at a sony ericsson k800i, “still a good phone mate! It was the best when it first came out”, says contact card number 487, Alex D, (Durham wasn’t registered into the stupid text recognition software) whilst prizing his pathetic apple in a case 4g or whatever the stupid hell it is.
Damn, he’s dropped another mutual friend link into the conversation, (didn’t much like the guy, hated him in fact, but for the sake of fresher’s week madness, he was actually my best friend at some point?) Why am I succumbing to this pathetic rouse? Path of least resistance? Or is it in fact, in the long term, the path of most resistance?
Never mind, it’s only a week (though most fresher’s would like to believe of course, that this is how it will always be, “I didn’t come to uni to study man!” Sigh... best not to really think about it all. Just plough through freshers week with false enthusiasm.
Fourth night of freshers week. Who are all these people calling me their friend?
Incoming call, “James Corridor”, hmmm.
“Hello?”
“ROGGGG!!!, get the fuck down to the SU, £1 skittles mate, all the lads are here”
“Right, see u soon?”
All the lads, what does that mean? Those vague characters whom I’ve happened upon at the end of each night? The same ones that live in my “hall”. Grimness ensues.
Fresher’s Ball, maybe this promises to be more promising. Great, we can all wear “black tie” and prance around like grownups, clinging onto fellow amoeba with childish enthusiasm to fit into something, only these children are ones that can afford Lambrini at a push or 33% extra free white lightening”. Hmmm, didn’t I do all this 5, even 6 years ago?
Oh well, at least I’ve got Freud as company ; )
A student who has just entered halls at 24 years of age.
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