The Morning After the Night Before: FOMO

Last night, I let myself get talked into changing out of my pyjamas- which I had put on in anticipation of calling it a day after streaming and enjoying a  selection of videos online, my usual weekend routine- and going to Baqt.
Since first year, I've been hearing about this Baqt place- where people apparently go to get drunk on random Friday nights, but I was never particularly interested in going there to see for myself. This time, I let FOMO (and Pearl) get the better of me and I went.

After we signed the attendance register (since when does a booze-up require one of those?) we found that, though the DJ was probably doing some of  his best work (whoever he was) it was pretty empty.
Off to West Campus it was, then. During O-Week we ran into some people from the fencing club (not like "stop-nonsense" fencing, but like "en garde!" fencing) who were eager to get patrons to their establishment (and not just to get drunkards to their little clubroom) and made sure to emphasise how affordable the... refreshments were at their place.
Well, last night they were closed, so we found ourselves wandering off towards what I'm going to assume was the mining students society's "party".

Though I was completely appalled by the way part of the staircase smelled of urine (What. The. Hell?), I will admit that I found the decor of the place quite impressive. "decor" as in the totally criminal but also- strangely- highly admirable collection of street signs, direction boards, and old portraits (notably one of a very stately-looking President Mugabe) they had all over the place. There was even a post office sign from some remote small town I've never heard of in my life hanging over the entrance.
While I'm sure I would never actually be able to listen to the stories about how all these things got there, I know that there are probably some pretty good "this one's for the grandkids" anecdotes behind the look of the society's pub. And probably some mugshots too.

Unfortunately, the fun stopped there, as (to my dismay) I was approached by some guy offering to "buy me a  drink". When I said that he didn't need to worry about that, thanks, he started with some spiel about "I know you can buy your own drinks, but let me buy you one because it's the only way I can make an impression...".
I was tempted to ask why he believed so strongly that getting me alcohol was the only way to make an impression, but that would only have prolonged the unwanted conversation and we were already standing in the middle of  all the gyrating and guzzling that was going on, so I'd had enough of that for one night.

Thankfully, we left soon after that- back to Baqt, ironically- so there was no time for a "second chance", which seems like something most guys would venture at after just the right amount of drinks.

At Baqt, I watched my 3 friends toast shots, get a little silly (which would probably have been funnier if I were actually paying attention), build a beer can tower (apparently it's a "must do" activity for any self-respecting pub crawler, or whatever), try to negotiate free drinks from the bartenders, drag me into their "alcohol happy" photos, and try to justify their behaviour- I believe the words "...there is that thin line between tipsy, and broken..." were uttered. It was all very strange.

The moral of this story for me is: FOMO is not worth it. What I thought would be a chance to observe what fun things my fellow Witsies get up to after dark, and possibly join in, turned into a disappointing night of amateur Jackass-inspired stunts, cheap booze (and the antics that follow having too much of it) and horribly misled attempts at what is the modern day's watered down equivalent of courting.

Next time I'm in my pyjamas watching Gilmore Girls on a Friday night, I'm not getting up and changing for anything.


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