Tonight was LSE’s big “Fresher’s Moving In Party,” which means that everyone goes to a club at 10 and expects to stay until 3am. Telling ourselves that we had to participate for participation’s sake, Kansas and I corralled new friends and met to walk across Tower Bridge.
First off, I know people have been telling me this for months (thanks to the Olympics and 24/7 news coverage) that this bridge is gorgeous. I know in my mind that yes, it is gorgeous. But oh my! It is simply stunning! When we wandered off at the otherside, there was a beautiful little park with lit trees, and a plethora of dining options I’m dying to go back to taste.
The point of this story, however, is not about the beauty of Tower Bridge, or even the all-night dance party. Instead, it is about three guys named Ben, Tom and Charlie. Two are Lithuanian and one is British. I leave you to decide which is which.
Tom began talking to our merry group of 7 at The Hide Bar, a wine bar we stopped in at for a drink before dance mania. He quickly informed us that the only reason you go to the aforementioned venue is if you want to do drugs on the dancefloor while meeting men who think you are there to go home with men. We laughed and assured him that while that may be the case on normal Sunday nights (umm!?), this was a school-sponsored event and the entire event would be LSE students, both undergraduate and graduate (or post-graduate as they refer to us). He invited us to just join him and his large group of friends at his “roof terrace” instead. With a departing “it’s quite nice, you should come,” he and his crew were gone.
We turned to discover that a) the club had a huge queue and b) the wine bar was closing down, so we figured: meh! why not. And off we went to join Tom, Ben and Charlie.
What a roofdeck! Views of the The Shard (Europe’s tallest building), St. Paul’s Cathedral, the London Eye, Tower Bridge, the Gherkin, the Razor and approximately a million other things to boot. We stood up there, listening to remixes of the Beatles played by incredibly handsome DJ Charlie, dancing really bad slow salsa with Tom, and listening to Ben tell us stories about how he was “from the Far East: Party Island.” Through it all, the “construction zone” sign that graced their living room was the butt of every joke (“No digging!” “We must set some ground rules, you can do many things, but you may not dig.” etc etc)
The morale is: Friday, I hung out with 2 boys from Belgium. Tonight, I started the night with girls from Germany/Israel, Russia/Denmark, Italy/England, Canada, California and Kansas. We ended it with boys from France, Lithuania and the UK.
I guess, as long as there is a “dig here” sign in the living room of people you’ve just met from across the world, this year won’t go half badly.