There’s no experience quite like an old man in a tight rugby top grinding against your leg.
There’s practically no way to avoid these would-be sugar daddies in St Andrews. Despite being a university town with its fair share of creeps between the ages of 17 and 24, it’s somehow always the guy with a stringy goatee and toothy smile who manages to catch your eye on the dancefloor. It’s almost enough to send you running back into your bed to do the work you should be doing on a Tuesday night.
This has become an epidemic at Ma Bells, the Vic, and even The Rule. I can understand that the mosh pit at Ma Bells leads to a lot of accidental groping, with hands just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I also understand how pretty blue lights at the Vic can serve as a siren call for the older crowd in the next room. However, when a man that resembles your bachelor uncle is suddenly amongst you and your fresher friends, something has gone badly wrong.
But once in a while, when there is enough alcohol in your system to turn everyone’s faces into mildly attractive patches of skin, lines between age are not so clearly drawn. I recently experienced one such night at The Rule: After an evening spent dancing on the balcony, my friends and I noticed two guys who could actually dance. After some hooting on our part, they came over to join us. It was all fun until my friend, laughing, turned to one of the guys, and asked—
“Hey, what year are you in?”
I should have been less shocked at his answer. He gave a smile that was all teeth and replied—
“Actually, I graduated seven years ago.”
Now, I’m not saying that people out of uni shouldn’t go out and enjoy themselves. No matter what age, people should feel free to live and express themselves in dingy college bars everywhere. However, at a certain point, the novelty of picking up 18 year olds should fade, and the realisation of a world outside the university should begin to emerge.
Shouldn’t it? Change is positive, and the thirty-somethings leering across a bar at teenagers would do well to remember that. I mean if you’re going to hang around university towns, at least stick to old man bars like the Blue Stane. I hear your kind are (almost) welcome there.
And to my fellow students, a word of advice next time you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation: Grab those free tequila shots out of his hands, and then disappear into the night.