Where’s the Waitrose?

Greetings, children of St Andrews. I’m aware that for many of you, coming to this hallowed turf may have been a bit of a change from what you’re used to. New people, new places, no Waitrose – all a little rattling isn’t it? Well, be it relationships or studies, tantrums or Tennents, all your problems are now those of the St Andrews Agony Aunt, who will anonymously answer any questions you many have with a thoughtful piece of old world advice.

So without any further gilding of the lily, here are our first two troubled students.

Auntie,

My roommate seemed like an alright bloke at the start. Thought for a bit that taking the mick out of Americans wasn’t the right thing to do anymore. One morning I come back from training and he’s watching something on his laptop. He’s a Trump Supporter! Since that he’s been trying to play off the English lingo and be mates, but every time he asks me to down something I just want him to chin my fist. How should I dispose of the body?

ABH

ABH,

What a pickle! Be calmm my boy, don’t go suggesting a late night pier walk to him just yet. Your roommate may support a political ideology that’s less fit for purpose than the St Andrews library, but murder seems a bit far and, to be honest, a bit easy. What you really need to do is try and live with him, avoid the room, and behave. However, if you really can’t get the image of tiny hands and xenophobia out of your head, there is a way to beat him at his own game. Wait for your roommate to fall asleep, sneak out of bed, and steal his phone and laptop.

If all goes well, the plan should brew better than a pot of Darjeeling Earl Grey. Rising, he will quickly notice the change: an eight-foot wall separating him from your side of the room and the door. Confusion rising in his mind, he will no doubt go to his only way of escape: the bedroom window. Outside he will see you waiting with a ladder and loudhailer. You will now shout that you have built a great wall, the best, and, most importantly, that your roommate is going to pay for it.

Now you may need to starve him out for a while – if this boy is anything like my grandson he’ll be able to hibernate for at least four days before running out of leftover cheesy chips. Fortunately, the lack of phone and laptop will speed the process as he realises that the only thing he can do to occupy himself is work. He’ll be like putty in your hands as you negotiate the terms of your new “special relationship.” Be sure to have some form of blackmail – a video of him salsa dancing should be enough to turn his fellow Trump supporters against him if he ever tries to get his own back.

Auntie,

Even before I came to St Andrews I’d heard the stories. Not anything weird like knifings lol, but just the feeling of missing out? Well, having gone through exactly that during my first two years I’m now a bit sick of it. I’ve got my friends  and house but I still ignore work and pull myself out of the library for a night out with my girlfriends that I’ve seen a thousand times over. What do I do?

Dave

Dave,

Even if I do slightly question the legitimacy of your name, there can be no doubt that what you’re talking about is a genuine issue. It may surprise you to hear that I was quite the rowdy girl back in my day and I too suffered from the pull of the party.

But get a grip, girl! You’re not some Julep-guzzling hussie anymore, you’re an image of the modern woman, commanding rights that we never had in our wildest daydreams. Back in my day, the only course catalogue we had was the latest Aga cookbook, and exams were on tea making skills and whether we said “scone” correctly. You’re blessed my girl, blessed! I don’t care what your reasoning is, whether it be the siren call of beer d’ore or the bellow of Madame Bells, you need to get a sense of perspective on you. At the end of the day it’s your decision, but bear in mind that what you do now will weigh on the rest of your life.

You say you have your friends, so if you’re going out that partially means that you’re about meeting new people. I can’t understand why, since the only people you’d meet would probably be first years. I surely need not tell you that you shouldn’t mingle with that bunch of rabble rousing whelps. You’re at the stage where you have nothing to prove, -you don’t need to go out constantly for people to know you like a night out. Time to stop obeying and start living I say!

Your loving Auntie

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