This could be anywhere
Nothing makes me feel at home like a rousing game of beer pong. Every new apartment needs a christening and a unique set of rules, and my Russell Square flat is no different. Since our sheisty landlords included a plastic, BP-sized table, my flatmates and I thought we could easily pull together the remaining supplies. Unfortunately, beer pong isn’t so popular in London (yet). The Brits don’t have a one-stop shop like P&C half a mile from South Campus, so we searched and searched and ultimately had to improvise.
Step 1: Cups. Unlike us wimpy, 12-ounce-beer-can-drinking Americans, Brits drink beer in pints. It seemed natural that red, 16-ounce Solo cups would be readily available. But Brits drink in public like they drive on the wrong side of the road, and they don’t need opaque cups to hide any cultural taboo. We had to settle for see-through cups, taller and slightly thinner than Solos — and, for some reason, available only at the newspaper store near the flat.
Step 2: Balls. These were incredibly different to find. Apparently ping-pong doesn’t count as a real sport here, so sporting goods stores don’t carry balls. The next logical step was…well fuck it, logic doesn’t exist for in the hunt for ping-pong balls. Some buddies — pardon me, “mates” — stumbled upon a card store with one package left and scooped them up. These cheap, plastic orbs are precious, so if anybody breaks one, they’ll have to chug the water cup as punishment.
A fun night
Step 3: Beer. Alcohol flows from every crevice and corner of the cityscape, so we could get creative with our boozing. Thankfully, Keystone and Red Dog haven’t made it to this side of the ocean, but their low prices haven’t either. Beer isn’t cheap here. Foster’s Australian Pisswater is the cheapest alternative, but certainly not cost-effective for a round of pong. Enter Sainsbury’s supermarket brand cider. Three liters (that’s roughly 101 ounces, or eight-and-a-half ‘Stones) of delicious apple drink for about three pounds. A few bottles equals a night of good ol’ fashioned fun.
The Result: We threw plastic balls into cups, yelled at each other and ultimately, got nice n’ drunk. Yeah, it’s a little different, but it’s pong, not rocket science. As much as I like to take advantage of London’s night life, I like the touch of home — and, with pubs charging six bucks a beer, it’s nice to have something cheap and familiar to fall back on.
~ Liam McCabe
