Has the past year pushed you to re-evaluate the clubbing experience?
As the vaccines roll out and we edge nearer life after lockdown, the conversation in my student circle inevitably comes back to how much we can’t wait to be back clubbing again, be it June 21 or otherwise. Whether my friends are loyal to Firewater, The Garage, or Paisley’s own Fantoosh, the dance floor seems to be calling my friends in a way I can’t relate to. I wasn’t really an avid club-goer pre-Covid, but the pandemic has really made it seem less and less appealing.
For starters, as the pandemic has made us all more aware of our hygiene habits, and the idea of cramming back into a packed club with its questionably sticky floors does gross me out a bit more than before. Having worked in hospitality, I’m sure there’s only so clean those plastic cups can get. Not to mention, having spent so long without coming within two metres of anyone outside my household, the idea of pushing my way to the front of the bar, or piling into the crowded toilets sounds like a recipe for a panic attack.
This isn’t to say I’ve never enjoyed clubbing – I definitely have. But maybe because I’m no longer single, I don’t get the same excitement about a night in Bamboo as I once did. Whether or not you care to admit it, part of the appeal of clubbing is the uncertainty, which is often tied to who you may or may not get with. Of course, my partner and I have had good nights in a club before, but with all my friends in pursuit of a disco winch, and having to keep explaining, “My boyfriend’s just at the bar,” it does seem like a single person’s game. The pandemic has been make-or-break for many couples, and has led my boyfriend and I to move in together. Whilst this has been great, it has made me feel even further from my single days of kissing someone to S Club 7’s Reach, not catching their last name before my friend says it’s time to get our coats. Besides, even if I was single, I’m not sure my winching sweaty strangers would be the first thing on my bucket list post-pandemic. In hindsight, the thought of Freshers’ flu feels much more sinister now.
When my friends all say they can’t wait to get back in the queue for Shimmy, I always say I’d rather have a night in the pub. I much prefer a seat and a chat with friends you haven’t seen in a while, which will be everyone when restrictions are first eased. You can get a drink much more easily, and usually with less of a dent in your bank account, not to mention a bouncer won’t turn you away for being in too big a group. I love bumping into old school friends, my workmates and uni pals all on the same night, and I think after being away from each other for so long, everyone will be glad to be introduced to new friends and to catch up with old ones.
I’ve had many more exciting nights at flat-warmings and new year’s house parties than in Hive or Buff Club. I love having a few wines and becoming “best friends” with someone for the rest of the night, only to like each other’s Instagrams for eternity and never speak again. I can’t wait to play Ring of Fire and Picolo again, or to make my friends play the ultimate hype song, Picture to Burn by Taylor Swift. Yes, there’s the potential for wine stains, broken glasses and a clean-up mission after a house party, but I’d rather that than waiting in the cold to get into a packed club where you end up getting three overpriced vodka lemonades and losing your ticket for the cloakroom.
Having said all of this, if you see me in Kokomo when the clubs do open back up… no you didn’t.