The People You'll Meet in May Week

I'm not going to lie, I'm saltier than McDonalds Fries about not going to any events this May Week (and don't even get me started about McDonalds being closed). But then I realised, May Week in Cambridge can be like a trip to the zoo if you do it right: not too expensive if you're clever about it, but endless hours of enjoyment staring at how ridiculously everyone else is behaving. So without further ado, here are the exhibits:

The One You Didn’t Realise Was Rich

You’ve spent all year with them just hanging out normally, they seemed super down to earth but always keen for a Dominos even as the rest of you were checking your bank accounts and trying to find the student discount code. And then, the big question:

“Which Balls are you doing this year?”

You pause, mentally calculating how many summer bar shifts it’s going to take to pay off your ticket. They continue, “I’ve got my tickets for Trin and Johns, and then thinking I’ll maybe do a couple of little ones like Catz and Emma? It’s so annoying I’ll have to get dresses for all of them!”

Wait, what? You check to see if they’re joking, but no, they're looking up dresses from Monsoon and Zara right now. You hope their zip gets stuck. 

The Kings Affair One

They’ve spent MONTHS on their outfit. While you were revising, they were papier-macheing. This year, they said, it was going to be the perfect outfit for the theme. They’d be unrecognisable, they said. It was going to be mind blowing, they said.

You, on the other hand, have probably nipped to HobbyCraft and made a tiara out of pipe cleaners, and are hoping that fishnets and glitter will count as ‘Music of the Spheres’ themed somehow. You’re a bit concerned - have you put enough effort in? Your friend spent more time on this than their dissertation.

You get to the queue. They’re wearing an ironing board spray-painted gold. You’re unsure if it’s madness, genius or haut-couture. After about an hour of drinking you really don’t care.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a student at King's Affair. 
 

The One on the Committee

You haven’t seen them all term, apart from ten seconds spraying them with cava when they finished their exams. They made sure you had bought your tickets on Early Bird Release, but since then, nothing but the odd message on a group chat asking whether gin and juice would be more popular than gin and fancy tonic. Once in a while you’ll see them running across the main court with a sash and a headset.

This (cue David Attenborough voice), is a May Ball Committee Member in their natural environment. Tune in next week to see how they cope with the meaningless existence of post-May Week.



 

The One Who Fucks Off to Tenerife Instead

As soon as their exams are done they jump on a plane for a lads holiday to get trashed by the pool while everyone else risks trying to sunbathe in damp fenlands.

Do I blame them? No. Am I bitter? Yes.

These are the kids bright enough to realise that for the cost of a Johns double ticket they could get an all-inclusive package to Tenerife/Majorca/Benidorm/[insert hot Spanish place here]. They’ll probably all get firsts as well.

I’m going to go put on some fake tan and pretend I don’t care (plot twist: I do). 


 

The One Who’s Not Going to Any May Balls and is So Salty They Write A Blog Post About It

I’m not going to say that the highlight of my May Week so far has been watching Love Island and eating Pringles in bed while ignoring people’s Instagram stories that are all captioned as “Ballin’”.  Mainly because that’s a really sad thing to admit on the internet.

But I will say that I’m glad Hayley’s dumped, the new girls seem fun, Alex deserves to find love and Pringles are only £1.50 at Mainsburys at the moment.


 

The Ball Workers

These are the unsung heroes of May Week, picking up your trash and getting their fingers all pruney from the amount of drinks they’ve got on their hands for minimum wage. What you don’t know is that they’ve been going on breaks every ten minutes and using their workers’ wristbands to jump the food queues and are now feeling sick from the amount of free profiteroles they ate.

The College Pet

About halfway through realises that is not in fact a party thrown in their honour, and that people have stopped dropping food that they can steal. Excited but confused and tired, much like all the students by the end of the week.