ACS, The Isis and Cellar – what more could an Oxford student want to liven up their dismal third week of Hilary?
Having started early at the college bar, my friends and I were already anticipating a good night. We were a few shots down, and the sheer volume of people around us was a clear sign that the evening was going to be a good one.
Unfortunately, we soon realised that half of the drunken crowd populating the JCR were ditching us in favour of the illustrious Park End, because apparently the Oxford clubbing scene favours synthesised pop hits from the noughties to a night of funk and hip-hop. Go figure.
Regardless, we made our way to the club early, despite having already bought tickets, because we knew that the queue would be monumental, and weren’t really up for spending an hour the cold whilst dressed in appropriately edgy (read: skimpy) clothes.
However, having made our way down to the dingy alleyway just off of Cornmarket, we realised that our attempts had been futile. We’d been beaten to the club by at least thirty other Cellar fanatics, as eager for ‘tha funk’ as we were. We waited patiently for our turn, revelling in the body heat of random strangers pressed against us with their scratchy clothes, and definitely did not get shitty with the bouncers who, as I’m sure you know, are the most polite and courteous gentlemen in all of Oxford. Once we got in, however, it was well worth the wait. For some reason or another, the crowd was filled with people I knew, and I wandered from group to group experiencing (and recording) some of my friends’ greatest dance moves.
The dingy setting of the club was lit up by the sheer vivacity of the music, and the crowd were enjoy- ing themselves so much that they seemed to have almost forgotten that they were literally dancing in little more than a dirty base- ment with a bar (no hate – I love the claustrophobic vibes as much as the next person). My personal favourite moment of the night was when I was re-entering the club after a stint in the smoking area, and walked past a girl leaving the club while eating a banana.
Since then, I have decided to bring fresh produce with me to every club night, as a means of sustaining my drunken antics with the nourishment of delicious and nutritious snacks. All in all, it was certainly a night to remember.