The Predator: He’s always there, watching. His friends walk up for a chat, but his answers are distracted and he pretty much shrugs them all off because he’s got his eye on some unsuspecting girl. Gradually, gradually, he will sidle up and BOOM he’s got his tongue down your throat. He repeats these moves (often moving from girl to girl in a group) until he eventually finds some girl willing to go home with him.
The Toilet Friend: You’re standing in the queue for the toilet and the girl in front of you strikes up a conversation. Five minutes later she’s declared you her best friend and attempts to come into the toilet cubicle with you. You gently, but firmly, repulse this advance. However, when you emerge from the toilet she’s still there! She grabs your arm and leads you out of the loos but somehow she disappears as soon as you’re back in the club. She won’t reappear until your next visit to the Club I toilet, and for the rest of your time at uni she will be there.
The Exuberant Dancer: You and your mates are having a dance, arms moving up and down, feet shuffling on the spot, having a great time. When suddenly there’s a whirling dervish in your midst. This guy believes himself to be the next Michael Jackson- he’s hip thrusting, he’s moving, he’s whacking into you. You watch him bemused as he attempts to slide on his knees, which results in a collision that takes down half the dancers. After a while he bounds off to another group, but don’t get complacent… he’ll be back.
The Evil Eye Girl: You’re trying to squeeze through the busy dance floor to reach your mates and you accidently knock into someone. You paste on an apologetic smile, expecting the person to return it (it’s Falmouth afterall), but you’re faced by the she-devil. She looks you up and down judging your outfit, dismissing your drink, trying to reduce you to a state of quivering remorse. You apologise but she just keeps looking. You turn your back but can’t resist a look back seconds later, and she’s still staring.
The Lost Soul: It’s the end of the night and you’ve exited Club I. Some random guy wanders up to you: ‘Hello’ he says cheerfully. You reply cautiously, ‘Hi’. ‘I’ve lost all my friends’ he says seemingly unconcerned, ‘Oh I’m very sorry’ you say and try to move on. But you have now adopted this chap and he walks back with you- your friends are cracking up or wondering if you’ve pulled, and it’s not til Cod on The Corner where he gets lured in for some chips that you are able to break and make a run for it.