PLEASE NOTE: This was uploaded on the old site, but thus lost when the new shiny site came in. What follows is a complete renovation of said article, with categories added, punctuation ammended etc.
I’m hoping to write comedy articles of this sort every week or so for the site, what follows is a break-down of the 9 stereotypes I found to populate halls in the first year of uni.
Your floor in halls is unique, right? It has been a few months now, and whether you like it or not, the people you live with have in a sense become your family. You’ve learnt all their foibles, annoying habits and cute accents, finding you actually rather like your new group. These people after all are like no one you’ve ever met before and you love them all the more for it. But the truth is that your little family is no different from my little family or any others on any other floor. Exploring different halls and different floors, whether it be from parties, get-togethers, or just some personal general snooping, has lead me to discover some interesting similarities. There are, by my extensively amateur calculations, nine different types of people who populate the corridors. So, come see if you agree with me, and please feel free to disagree intensely afterwards. Let the hideous stereotyping begin!
Typically male, terrified of eye contact, and unable to utter a single word in your presence, the recluse is the classic mainstay of the halls. Someone you’re guaranteed to know, or perhaps guaranteed not to know for that matter. Harder to find than a working toaster in Rankin, their room is like Baa Baa, everyone talks about it, but no-one can really be bothered to go in. While most choose to socialise, meet new people and generally immerse themselves within ‘Uni’, the recluse is a seemingly nobler sort. Fit to let the world go by as they hole up in their room, seemingly always working (don’t they know that the first year is for drinking, not thinking?), it’s not really clear what the recluses get up to. If you do know, then please stop reading this and breathe the air outside!
Changing your birthday on Facebook, running around the corridors giggling after swapping your eye drops for vodka, the Joker can be heard giggling on every floor. Simultaneously annoying the hell out of you while making you laugh more and more, the Joker can do no wrong in my eyes, although saying that I can’t actually see out my eyes at the moment due to my drops being swapped with vodka. Oh, the irony…
The Pretty Girl:
We all know the type, loud as a motorbike, and wouldn’t chip a nail in a fruit fight. If you’re lucky you’ll probably know a few of these, pampered to perfection, with hair unbelievably heavenly, despite the showers being about as high pressure of re-taking your year 6 SAT’S instead of your A-levels. Hopeless with the washing, and unable to fathom a microwave, you love them anyway, because they’re so purdy…
More annoying than someone trying to get you to go to KOKO, no floor is a self-respecting floor without the posh boy. Whether he’s boasting of the amount of horses in his father’s ranch in Switzerland, or threatening to rape a tiger if he doesn’t find his keys, they’re the future civil servant that everyone loves to hate.
Giving it large in the dinner queue, the geezer is an epidemic, and god bless them for it. More than any other of these hideous stereotypes, the geezer is the most common, coating every corridor with the faint residue of hair gel, along with empty boasts of the night before. The perfect antidote to the aforementioned posh boy, the geezer will be your best mate, the place for party info, and will always ask you what’s gwarnin … yeah I have no idea what that means either.
Blessed purveyor of all things green, this Hercules of hallucinogens is another mainstay of the floor. If you don’t think you’ve met them yet, just give the corridors a good sniff around midnight and follow the faint dubstep. One of the most unusually generous members of the floor, the stoner will be your best friend and then the next night be accusing you of a conspiracy to kill them involving Phil Mitchell and a packet of cornflakes, then of course be your best friend again.
Diligent, responsible and caring, a good floor can’t do without a good mom. Cleaner of kitchens! Finder of keys! Bringer of ashtrays! Where would we be without our floor mothers? Really can’t jest at these, as I’d probably be asleep right now in a bush, if it wasn’t for mine.
We’re young, we’ve got into University, and we’re free of UCAS, what better form of celebration than fornication? Yet some naive students spoil it for each by go and getting all ‘serious’. The couple or indeed couples, depending on your floor’s horniness litter every hall, normally found in each other’s room with the door suspiciously locked, the couple much like the recluse is often rarely seen. But while they are busy making the beasts with two backs, the recluse is busy making a toy beast with blu-tack.
The Musician is a potluck choice. Getting everyone for a sing-along when your nursing a hangover, or playing guitar solo’s at 3’0clock in the morning can be the bane or the joy of the halls. If your lucky you get to be serenaded every now and then by a pianist, or indulge in a good old sing-along with a strummer. If you’re unlucky though you get next door to an insomniac tuba player.