By Billy Fresher, big shot journalist
Hey there fellow youths. It’s me, Billy Fresher. I’ve been dropping in and out of first year since 2013 and while most years I pretend I’ve never experienced Freshers’ Week before, this year I thought I’d use my aged wisdom to recreate what usually happens, but with Mum and Dad. Here’s how:
Let’s start with the basics. First off, I took part in a homemade Studio 338 ‘F*ck Me It’s Freshers’ event, which I prepared for my spraying myself with a healthy dose of Lynx Africa. I then sat on my sofa for the same duration as the journey from Euston Square to Greenwich, had quick boogie with the dog, whacked my head on the wall, and then fell asleep on the Tube/sofa back. Quality night. Plus, the semi-serious head injury was perfect for recreating a crashing hangover in the morning.
Next up it was time to meet my halls neighbours. Mrs Price from next door didn’t appreciate me going round with a crate of Stellas and a beer funnel, even though I made it very clear we could still be socially distanced because the funnel splits into two tubes. Not to worry – rejection is a normal part of the Freshers’ experience.
On Wednesday I hopped onto the Student Union’s ‘Welcome Fair’ and I have to admit they really nailed the usual vibe. Queuing up for four hours and not actually getting in? Yes my slime. To everyone at the Union: you aced it. I ended up watching Pi Media’s 7 minute promo video the next day, which felt like it lasted much longer than those four hours, but feeling a sense of desperation is also a normal part of Freshers week, so I’ll take it.
The last part of my recreation really stumped me – how was I to feel the symptoms of freshers’ flu without 300 people from across the world converging in a lecture hall? Turns out I needn’t have worried, because Mrs Price gave me coronavirus.