Diary of a Week One Rep

Diary of a week one rep:

Alco-pops in every hand, pockets brimming with condoms and with enough sexual tension to excite even the most socially reclusive Nottingham student, fresher’s week 2007 was a spectacle not to be missed.

Venturing in to second year, I joined a hundred fellow cling-ons to relive the glory days of week one; only this time we were granted the power to control the chanting, shut up the arse holes and swan off to VIP if hearing the immortal line ‘I’ll be ready…’ blast on to the dance floor, again, was just too much for one night.

However, such privileges came at a price. Throughout the seven days, and on finishing the non stop party, the question is continually being put to me; ‘How was week one, Laura?’ It’s a tough one to answer within the socially acceptable limits of polite conversation. Of course it was amazing to meet so many new people, I can’t believe there would be a single rep who didn’t enjoy the immense socialising experience of the week, especially when you literally are the party starters. It was also brilliant to have such a unique experience that only a few people can, and to get so involved in something that it becomes your entire life.

And yet when a fresher, who, keep in mind, is only a year or so younger than you, or, in some cases older, throws up on your face, or asks you to provide them with a counterfeit ticket for the week one party, after, yes, they sold out when, yes, you told them they would, I did admittedly sometimes question exactly what was going through my mind when I donned a sumo-fairy suit and drank a pint of the most disgusting concoction known to man in order to earn the right to have the joy of carrying a random girl home.

It also pushed me in to an awkward confrontation with myself over just how much alcohol constitutes a good night out, the cute anchor man badge pinned to us in order to alert the fresher’s of our absolute sobriety every other night didn’t really substitute for a good few units when the night before brought with it just three hours of sleep. But as I danced the final night away, and witnessed the magic of midnight as the orange t-shirted reps were released to finally be with their favourite fresher, or, to be more realistic, favourite fresher’s, I knew that when the yellow buses brought to the streets the fresher’s and reps of 2008 I’d be jealous that my orange rep t-shirt could cling on no more.

Laura Wain


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