Cheapskates: Does what it says on the tin
Shattered glass under my pained feet. A rosy-cheeked, wide eyed reflection of myself on the wall. Surrounded by a crowd of people. Lights flashing in my eyes. No, I haven’t been in an accident; I am at the Moonlighting nightclub in Soho.
Now don’t be fooled by the name or the location- I may be in Central London, but tonight I am a Cheapskate. Well, most students are cheapskates every night, but on a Wednesday night at this deceptively large club, everybody is; the weekly night boasts a £4 entry fee for NUS card holders, and at 80p for any drink it’s cheaper than your nearest student union.
So why go to Cheapskates night? If, like me you are beginning to feel ashamed of the fact that at the regular club night at your Students’ Union, you know 1) exactly which song is coming next in the play list, 2) who’s going to be there and 3) that you won’t remember much of it the next day, it is time to discover some alternatives. At my union’s night, Club Sandwich, it has now reached the point where others ring my friend to check that she is O.K if she doesn’t attend, such is her regularity. Every Wednesday, students pour in from the surrounding halls of residence in the not-so-glamorous New Cross, pay their few pounds and head up the stairs towards the crammed bar; the alcohol flows like squash at a kid’s birthday party and the sea of familiar faces blur as drunken groups hit the dance floor.
Cheapskates, to be fair, is not that different in most respects. The alcohol is so cheap that the young, chattering customers at the bar are coming away with three drinks at once; although this may also be down to the fact that they are not particularly generous with the mixers. Though for 80p per glass of shot and mixer, no one is complaining, apart from the fact that its so strong you end up downing it in a couple of gulps. The glamorous interior of the club, however, is different to your local Union; the large illuminated bar stands in the centre of the club, a circle of glowing spirits and beer bottles, with fast-working barmen and barmaids serving the demands of the punters. The space of the red carpeted floor is extended at least in the mind’s eye by the walls that are panelled with mirrors; a far cry from the badly painted, notice board-covered walls of my union.
The best difference about a Wednesday here as opposed to Club Sandwich is the music. ‘New school disco, old school hip hop and decades of melody’, played by ‘DJ Downfall’ is a refreshing change to the mundane, predictable cliché of songs that get updated around once a year at most student unions. The mixture of drum and bass and indie tracks gets everyone dancing on the unfortunately small dance floor- the one advantage that the legendary Club Sarnie has. Instead of the wet, drink-covered floor of the union, the floor that I dance on in Moonlighting is mostly covered with crushed glass. This is not a chic interior-design move; the signs on the walls instruct ‘No Drinks on Dancefloor’: a good idea, but most people ignore it and then drop their glasses to the floor once they are finished. Note to self - do not wear open toed shoes!
Despite this, the music gets even better towards the end of the night (unlike Sandwich where the tunes that your mum and dad used to dance to start to come on), and in this club, the lights do not turn on at the end to tell you that yes, it is time to go home, a trait reminiscent of a school disco. Or student union.
When it is time to leave, buzzing from a cocktail of vodka, dancing and bright lights, I have only spent £9.80, including entry, cloakroom, and six small but perfectly formed drinks. Plus one pound for the rather persistent, guilt-tripping attendant in the ladies’ toilets. Well, she did give me soap. For what I’ve spent, it is hard to believe that I’ve been dancing the night away in central London and not the dingy New Cross. Tempting though the 453 bus is, I opt to congratulate myself on the money I’ve saved by spending it on a cab to get me home and out of these shoes.
