Ah, YoYo Thursdays. For the first six weeks of university, there wasn’t a single one I didn’t go to. One of Nottingham’s newest nightclubs, with what is (in my opinion) a banging playlist, Pom Pom is always a safe bet for a good night out.
Last semester, I had an 11am lecture on a Friday, all about Shakespeare’s history plays. For the first few weeks, my post-Pom Pom self was hungover in every single one of them. Though I attempted to make extensive notes on a topic I found interesting but difficult, they ended up consisting of the blurred scrawl of a dehydrated Maddie with a banging headache attempting to make it through the day on no less than 3 hours’ sleep.
‘Not to be too serious or anything, but after making a lot of mistakes last semester, I decided it was time to change (more out of sympathy for my liver than anything else).’
When I challenged myself to a sober night out, I’ll be honest: my first thought was that it would make an interesting topic for an article. But the decision was somewhat more than that. Not to be too serious or anything, but after making a lot of mistakes last semester, I decided it was time to change (more out of sympathy for my liver than anything else). Maybe I’ve aged 20 years since entering 2017, but I’ve been becoming increasingly sad that so many of us rely on alcohol to have a good time. It got me thinking, is it really even necessary?
“I decided to try a night out sober to see if I could at last wake up the morning after without guilt and with the ability to remember more than 40% of the night (a rarity for me)”
I discussed my new-found contempt for excessive alcohol consumption with my friend, who asked me why – after so much complaint about my increasingly stupid drunk actions – I insisted on downing an entire bottle of rosé in the space of about 5 minutes before going to Rock City on Friday. To answer her question, I decided to try a night out sober to see if I could at last wake up the morning after without guilt and with the ability to remember more than 40% of the night (a rarity for me).
“I was surprised to discover that being sober in a nightclub in no way detracted from that confidence; all I had to do was remember that everyone else around me was too drunk to recognise themselves, let alone me”
And I did it. Pom Pom last Thursday was brilliant, a refreshingly conscious night out with my pals, after which I had a pleasantly headache-less state of mind and a Snapchat story I actually remembered capturing. For many people, the appeal of alcohol is in the confidence it gives them, namely the ability of tequila/vodka/ whatever your poison may be to convince you that, yes, of course you can dance (when in fact you know you can’t).
Yet I was surprised to discover that being sober in a nightclub in no way detracted from that confidence; all I had to do was remember that everyone else around me was too drunk to recognise themselves, let alone me, and that thus my non-alcohol-induced moves were, whilst suitably appalling, able to be let loose.
At the end of the night, I begrudgingly had to admit the truth: that the sesh can in fact exist without its participants being absolutely smashed. The only downside was that the lack of a headache the morning after made me uber-aware of my sleep-deprivation, alongside the constant ringing in my ears of music I actually recollected hearing. Worth it though, for what was probably a long-overdue guilt-free night out.
Maddie Ruth
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Featured Image: Jill Forsdick.
