If you want to feel like a COMPLETE outsider in the new country you find yourself, I suggest you go to a comedy night. Hannah, Erin & I decided last night, to do something completely different and attend the comedy night being put on by the hotel/lounge down the street from my dorm named “The Greyfriars Hotel”. First, the bouncer eyes us and examines our ID’s quite thoroughly. Apparently, the disbelief that Erin & I are over 18 is pretty universal here. But with that, a fiver ($5), & an honest smile from the burly bouncer, we finally get in. Little did we anticipate that this was a local hangout, not a college one. I’m not saying that this time there were old men bickering in Scottish brogue, but you could obviously tell that students at St. Andrews did not convene here on a Thurs nights very often. So, we find ourselves a seat next to a pretty judgmental looking middle-age couple that do not hide the fact that for most of the night they are staring at us with obvious disapproval.

The host jumps on stage about a half hour after we arrive, and we are immedietly thankful that we did not pick the table RIGHT night to the floor, like we originally intended. He begins by picking on them, and never ceases throughout the night. The tattooed men at the table are lighthearted and add their own jokes to the banter. But, we were apparently not a safe distance away from the stage, because eventually the host spots us and begins to make us the butt of his jokes. He even picks me specifically, asking me questions & ending with “I’m going to come back to you, you sound like an interesting one”. Now this is where it begins to be obvious that we ARENT at home in America, because the entire time he is making fun of our table or speaking to me, none of us American girls understood a word he is saying! So, while he is berating us, we are simply left nodding or attempting a “Yes?” in response. This became a popular theme of the night. Of the 5 comedians that hit the stage, 2 ½ might as well have been mumbling the entire time, because that is exactly what they sounded like they were doing in their Scottish brogue. While the entire bar full of Scotts laugh heartily at every joke, Erin, Hannah and I are merely left staring, trying to understand at least ONE word that is coming out of these mumbling Scottish men’s mouths. Ultimately failing half the time. So, for two out of the five acts we find ourselves sitting there, ears peeled, leaning forward, not catching one word or concept of the joke. The other three acts had less of a thick accent and (at times) found it convenient to annunciate a little bit, to our great benefit. But that is not to say we caught the entire act. Either these men mumbled through half their jokes & the Scottish natives were the only ones with the trained ears to catch it, OR they were spending 10 minutes making jokes about some Scottish product or word, that we had no idea what it was. So, while this comedian spends a half hour joking about “neds” leaving the entire bar nodding & in a collective uproar, our table is still attempting to collect WHAT exactly a ned IS! Yet, despite the language and accent barrier, of the jokes we could both understand and hear were great ones and we found enough time to laugh heartily as well - to the great disapproval of the couple next to us.

After the very entertaining comedy acts, we continued to the union to order my first margarita & run into our Italian friend, Donatello. Donatello makes it a mission of his that we head to St. Andrews nightclub so that we could all end the night dancing, but after discovering the club and St.A’s other local hotspot was closed, we found ourselves back at the union, tearing up the dance floor to the University Sponsored “Bop”, which is basically a mini club room that the university hosts every Thursday. Despite the few American songs being played, we discovered a lot of GREAT new British beats that were a blast to dance to!

Overall, a very educational and successful night. If I do say so myself.