Survival Guide

Girls v boys: the night out

However, there lie some critical differences between the two genders when it comes to our social scene experiences, and here they are:
The Preparations
We are all aware of the lengthy process that is a girl getting ready for a night on the tiles.
Due to the vast majority of us not being naturally tanned, possessing naturally long eye lashes or being satisfied with the medium length of our hair, the fake tanning, fake eye lashing and addition of a fake mane of hair to our heads all adds up to a good two hours locked in the bedroom. 
By the end of this process we look nothing like ourselves and the poor boys struggle to recognise us at first glance.
Eh, you’re not the same pale-faced girl with your hair thrown up in a greasy bun who I saw in college earlier?
Sh*t. Shower. Shave. Ready. The biggest dilemma facing boys in their preparations is which one of their ten Hollister t-shirts they wear.
The female species tend to delve straight into the hard-core stuff when pre-drinking.
No harmless cans of Bulmer’s or bottles of beer for us to warm ourselves up with, we’ll tuck straight into our naggin’s and bottles of wine, thank you very much.
Pre-drinking topics of conversation usually revolve around where we got our outfits, boys, with a bit of gossip thrown into the mix. 
At this stage of the night we try to create the impression that we are classy, sitting with our legs crossed in a lady-like manner, sipping on our drinks like the sophisticated young women we are. 
This is not the impression we will be making come 3am.
The boys start off with their cans and bottles of beer, emphasising their sheer manliness.
They’ll probably pre-drink in the sitting room while playing the latest addition of FIFA.
Instead of putting their cans and bottles in the bin after they have drank them, they will leave them lying around the room for a substantial length of time, usually for a period of up to three days.
Their pre-drinking conversations revolve around proper LAD topics; ‘the moths’ and sport.
The nightclub
Remember the days when we were all harmless, shy teenagers? House parties are like mass back in the old days, girls at one side and boys at the other.
Until we have a little sip of the magic potion commonly referred to as drink and suddenly we are all able to talk to each other.
The invisible line in the middle of the room dividing the two genders stating “DO NOT CROSS” suddenly disappears. This is what nightclubs are like. The nightclub is probably the one aspect of the night out where we do not differ considerably. 
We are all guilty of shameful dancing, pimping ourselves out for the shift and talking absolutely drunken tripe to anyone who will listen.
Boys are less likely to fall on nights out because they wear shoes that they are actually able to walk in. 
Girls have a 1 in 3 chance of ending up flat on their face, depending on the level of drunkenness and height of heel. 
Boys are also less likely to be found crying in a corner. Damn our hormones to hell. If a girl gets upset over a boy, she’ll cry. If a boy gets upset over a girl, he’ll punch another guy. C’est la vie.
As stated above, we are both equally susceptible to pimping ourselves out for the shift. However, different mechanisms are used by each gender. 
Girls will do laps around Coppers until some good-looking boy gives them attention.
Boys will do laps around Coppers feeling girls’ arses until one of them deems this acceptable behaviour and turns around and shifts them. We really are a romantic generation, aren’t we?
By now our feet are absolutely killing us, our fake eyelashes are on our cheeks and the make-up has officially eroded off.
We want to go home, but not before we make a pig of ourselves in the take-away. The heels (as opposed to the gloves) are off and we are sitting there barefoot in Babylon inhaling taco fries.
The bright lights of Babylon are so sound to highlight our streaky Sally Hansen tan and eroded faces.
The boys round up the wolf pack at the end of the night, hungry to indulge in a bit of vandalism and mischief (if they haven’t pulled). 
This hooliganism is particularly prominent around election time. Unexplainably, boys just love ripping down those election posters and carrying them home. 
They still look the same as they did at the start of the night, minus the googled eyes and drink stains on their shirts.
The morning after
The vodka revealed your inner hussy and you wake up in a location that is not your home.
You are cursing yourself as you have missed your 9am lecture and are now facing the dreaded walk of shame.
Do you wear the dress from the night before, or ask the boy to kindly donate some of his wardrobe. Quite the predicament.
 Either way, people will still know your dirty little secret. You spend your day with Mr. Fear, frantically texting your friends about last night’s events.
Yet another occasion where the men possess an advantage over women.
They have engaged in a one night stand, but luckily their walk of shame outfit looks the same as their everyday college attire, so nobody will suspect a thing. 
Quick pit-stop en route home into Spar for a chicken-fillet roll and bottle of Lucozade, with a winning phone call to the lads to boast about last night’s achievements.
Once again, we girls seem to get the raw end of the deal.
As if childbirth and the menstrual cycle weren’t bad enough, we have to spend hours making ourselves look beautiful, and for us it is considered the walk of shame, but for guys it is the stride of pride. 
Ah well, it is all in the name of the college experience.
Our nights may differ in certain ways, but at the end of the day, we are two essential components of a good night out.