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In fact, the only shock was that the behaviour was not more outrageous. The floor was slippery with vodka Red Bull and “freshers’ cocktail”, which was virulently pink and smelled of methylated spirit.
In one corner, the quiet boy studying Natural Sciences was throwing up in a most unnatural and unscientific fashion.
You could only technically join the Pitt Club if you’d been to Eton or Harrow, and women were then invited on the basis of how “fit” they were.
“Last year they spent £1,200 on the cheapest vodka money can buy for one party.” It almost makes me nostalgic.
As a result, they could be careless with people and things. Combine that with cheap alcohol and the anything-goes attitude of freshers’ week and you have a potent mix. The Party is a psychological thriller which delves into the heart of the British establishment.
The two main characters, Martin and Ben, are locked in a dysfunctional friendship because of a scandalous incident after a drunken Pitt Club party.
Still, my time at Cambridge was lots of fun, even if occasionally gross.
Formal halls, where we would don our black academic gowns for three-course meals in beautiful, oak-panelled dining rooms, were riotous.