So it's the last night before we're all going off in different directions for our free weekend, and we figure, better get blasted out of our minds. You know how we roll. So we decide we'll actually go clubbing, and we get all dressed up. And drink a lot at home first cause drinks at clubs are fuckin expensive. So our house leaves a good....40 minutes after we were supposed to meet the others. As we're walking up Milsom st we of course run into them. And they of course have just left their house. They all want to go the Huntsman, which i didnt really understand cause its a pub and last time i went there were like 4 middle aged men there. But we went, and it turned out to be ₤1.50 drinks night. So I decided not to complain about the creepy middle aged man vibe. We hung around downstairs for a bit and then the guy was like, theres a dance floor upstairs, the d.j. will play “whatever you want.” Right. So we head upstairs. And walk straight into a middle school dance. Wood paneling. Colored light spinny ball thing. Realllly shitty old music. And of course, everyone sitting at tables staring down and a completely empty dance floor. We changed that pretty quick. We tried requesting some new music…as in like 2000….that didn’t happen. So we rocked out the old school Michael Jackson and made the best of it. We….well ok, Trish…went over to the tables and started dragging guys up. And since there were like 9 of us we all started dancing and it was pretty much a rockin party anyway. I met a guy who called me love and realized I haven’t gotten totally immune to the accent yet. And then we went back to our house and Chris played guitar while we all sang along and probably pissed the fuck out of our neighbors. I consider it an accomplishment that none of them have thrown anything at us from their windows yet.
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