I can see exactly how it happened. It would have been in the YUSU office, about 2:15 in the morning. The taxi back from Toffs has deposited the President and the Services’n’Finance officer back at the office. Services’n’Finance looks at President unsteadily. “You know what?” “Wha- Is there anything left in that bottle? Thanks. What?” “You know what I think?” “No, Matt, I don’t know what you-” “We should buy a bar.” “-think. What? Buy a what? Oops. Sorry about that. Put some white wine and salt on it. It’ll be fine.” “You’re not listening to me. I said we should buy a bar. I want a bar.” “What, like a proper one? Didn’t you have that idea before?” “Shut up. I’m serious this ti-” “Yes! I remember. You said we could build a student venue in the city. Your poster had the picture of Wembley Stadium on it.” “Shut up!” “Wembley Stadium, and you said… what was it you said?” “I don’t remember.” “Neither do I. Pass the corkscrew. Ancient history now, anyway. What you bringing it up for?” “Anne-Marie, I can really do it this time. It could be our legacy!” “Take that badge off, you look a fool.” “We could really do it this time. We could get Langwith bar; they’d give it to us for peanuts.” “Whatever, Matt. Just pass me the sodding corkscrew.”
Through the drunken haze, one important point is missed. This University may be run by a bunch of berks who couldn’t run a hot-dog stand at a hot-dog-lovers convention, but if there’s one thing those bods up at Hes Hall know, it’s when something’s going down the pan. God knows, they should by now.
Langwith bar is under threat of closure because nobody goes to drink there. Nobody goes to drink there because there are better places to go drink than bloody Langwith bar. As people who don’t know what gits they really are say: you do the math. If Langwith bar goes down the pan when the University are running it, we lose Langwith bar, and both its patrons have to make the extra three-minute walk to Derwent bar, or the Charles. If Langwith bar goes down and us students are running it, we have to foot the bill; and it will come out of something we actually want, like the societies. The newspapers will have to provide their own paper. The radio will have to stand in the middle of campus and shout through a loudspeaker made from toilet-roll tubes and tin foil. The rugby team will have to provide their own balls, gumshields and ball-gags, and the underwater hockey team (?) will have to practice doing whatever it does in the lake instead of a pool. The proceeds of RAG will all be purloined from the needy and poured into YUSU’s ailing coffers- oh, shit. Too late.