I Went to Ocean Nottingham as a Non-Nottingham Student and Here’s What I Observed
As a young woman from the rural and not at all urban area of Cambridgeshire, visiting a friend in Nottingham was exciting. It offered an opportunity to escape Vodka Revolution and the 40-year-old divorcees from The Regal Wetherspoons.
But little did I know, I was being taken to Ocean, courtesy of Nottingham Trent University.
So, I made a few observations as my feet were stuck to the weird and wonderful floor:
If Ocean was an actual ocean, all sea-life would be dead due to the swarm of plastic VK bottles on the floor.
I ordered tequila shots to prepare myself for what I was about to witness – cheapest shot ever – and my friend got two VKs. Honestly, I thought she was a prick regressing back to year ten, but no, everyone around me had them and funnily enough I was the weirdo for not sporting a 4% alcoholic drink.
Every song was fit for the last hour of a year six disco.
You’ll know every single word to every song, Kelly Clarkson, Take That, Shakira, Natasha Beddingfield… the whole gang were out to play. Even your Mum could smash a night out in Ocean and belt out the words better than her own wedding vows.
Fancy dress is a serious thing.
All the fancy dress shops including ‘Luvyababes’ – actual real name – are rammed hours before the event like Tescos on Christmas Eve. People go all out, each society is like a cult with a fun uniform – even the guys who wore their football kit for World Book Day in year four pulled out a decent outfit.
But wearing many clothes isn’t cool and the rugby #lads are strong advocates.
I was concerned I’d misjudge the dress code and it’d be like that dream in which you go to school naked, but when I turned up my reality was that I was fully clothed and everyone else was naked.
The cloakroom is quite dead. Why is it even there?
My friend actually told me there wasn’t one. No one is wearing any clothes, so there’s nothing to hang up. And why spend money on avoiding hypothermia after the club when it can be spent towards another VK and a Big Mac?
You just have to be a person who goes to Trent to fit in, nobody is excluded.
I wasn’t really sure world peace was achievable before I attended Ocean. But I saw such a variety of people, those who like showing their bum cheeks; some who showcase their humour with creative outfits; guys in Speedos and then also one indvidual, from the boxing society, who said: “I’m too black for this” when Angels by Robbie Williams began – yet, I knew it wasn’t his first or last experience at Ocean.
At times it felt like being at a football match.
“T.R.E.N.T WE ARE THE TRENT ARMY” – the lads and ladies would chant from time to time. I can confirm the army were strong in spirit but in actual battle they could only offer regretful decisions and liver failure.
Trent girls are determined people who have no time to waste.
Never have I ever seen such tenacious women that are so good with their time, in twenty minutes they’ve necked their drink, got off with a guy, ran away from the same guy and ordered a McDonald’s.