student life

My Wildest Student Night

As a German student studying in the UK, Thomas Vonier had the wildest night of his life culminating in a train of shame and lost memories… Essex!

As a German student studying in the UK, Thomas Vonier had the wildest night of his life culminating in a train of shame and lost memories… Essex!

Some parts of student life in Britain are really hard – particularly for life supporting organs like the liver. This is the story of a train of shame – and the search for lost memories the very next day.

After living and partying in London for quite a time you might think you have seen it all. You don’t – especially not if you are leaving the secure, always alighted, always accompanied, urban environment of the city and head for Essex.

It was one of that early spring nights, when it is not really warm but everyone pretends it would be in order to have a good reason for BBQ and a few pints with friends.

The destination was Essex, more specifically: a very nice, beautifully interior-architected townhouse on the countryside in Essex. It turned out, that the house-bar was well filled. After having some lousy, rather burnt veggie-sausages, the drinking games started very soon… 

The bad thing with such days is that you already start drinking cider in the afternoon. One might think that the alcohol gets absorbed by the eaten food. It seems thus clearly obvious that having a cider with the food shouldn’t harm. Clearly harmful, however, is the mixture of Champaign, whiskey, absinth, more Champaign, and various shots of Tequila afterwards. 

As at every good party, drinks are not just consumed for the sake of drinking. The deed is fulfilled as a spiritual act, serving the high rules of the very demanding assignment “F*ck the dealer” – of course, metaphorically spoken. This is a very unphysical game, in which one has to guess the card, the cardholder holds. If the guesser is right, the ‘dealer’ has to drink – having it not right after two attempts, the guesser has to drink. This is obviously a very spiritual game, combining the elements of likelihood and fate.

Of course, there are several more physically demanding games. Who, for example, does not know ‘truth or dare’? Approximately already the ancient Greeks played it. Why else would we hear so many homo-erotic stories from that age? The author can proudly reveal that neither effort nor any form of public humiliation was avoided to serve the embracing of human culture. We would have made Prometheus – G(r)eek and God, who gave humankind culture – very proud.

There is no wonder yet that all those selfless and graceful servants of tradition and culture get very exhausted at some point. Accordingly, the group usually reduces dramatically, yet to a very exclusive group of awoke women and men. Rumour has it that whatever happens in this circle, nobody will ever tell, obviously for various reasons.

Sometimes, however, a picture – yet videos are even better – says more than thousand words. Particularly if it is released on Facebook, twitter, or wherever else your friends and family investigate the dark side of your private life. 

On the other hand, these digital tracks may also serve as reliable clues of reconstruction. Very useful, especially if someone is not able to remember all parts of the night on his or her own. Questions like ‘Whose jacket am I wearing on the train?’ or ‘Who painted that moustache on my face?’ (classic one)  have been heard. 

Those little signs, which usually are analysed after having breakfast on 6 pm the next day, become virtually essential if the poor victim of excessive cultural discourse wakes up in his own bed, wondering which good fairy might have had the mercy to transfer him or her to there, since s/he is foolishly sure having gone to bed in a friend’s house in Essex. 

After realising that obviously someone has shaved some very delicate parts of the body – no shower at the gym until these hairs are back on the leg– one will have to calculate carefully. Is there any chance that no one really realised how drunk I was yesterday? Will they themselves be able to remember at all? Do I really need to know where my wallet, including international passport, two hundred Pounds and all my credit cards, is? Do I plan to travel the next five years…?

After procrastinating until the third cup of coffee, the inevitable call will follow. 

Hey mate, how are you doing?

I am good man, how are you?

Cheers mate, we had soooooo much fun yesterday, hadn’t we?

Yeahhh, it was a sick night dude. Just got home a few hours ago.

Really? [innocently] I got the last train back to London…

You did? I thought we would sleep at Oliver’s house. Anyway, I got your jacket man… Oli told me you’d probably have mine then.

Errrm, can you check if my wallet is inside? 

Already found it –  cute picture on your driver’s license…hahahaha I didn’t know you were looking so….. geeky back then.

So,…what are you plans for tonight?

I don’t know, but it’s kind of rainy today, innit?

I knooow, shall we have a chiller’s night? Some board games…?

Yeah sure, come over – I’ll call the others…

And thus, another night begins…