The hoards have arrived.
The University holds a 'Welcome Weekend'. Unfortunately I am too slow to respond to the email and so miss out on a fantastic opportunity to spend my weekend molesting freshers. All the campus shops and the local Sainsbury's have sold out of alcohol by Saturday night.
The BBC has an exciting news story on the day that the Vice-Chancellor is proudly proclaiming the weekend a great success: 'Tow Damage' Claims Investigated. Apparently the University welcomed some parents by towing their cars in the middle of the night. The porters report that the BMW's wheels actually caught fire - they were towed by lifting the front and dragging the cars over the new road.
I am trapped in a room while queues of confused students thrust damp, screwed up pieces of paper at me. Hours of entertainment are had from sending them to use the photocopier in the corner and seeing them struggle. The fear, the look of blind panic when they try to work out why you've just asked them for money.
One lad has never written a cheque before. Bless 'em, they're all so young. Mostly young. And ugly and spotty. Except the Geography and Tourism students, they're pretty and big chested (not that I look at that sort of thing - you can't anyway - everyone's watching).
The ones who point at the 'name' bit on the form and ask you what they're supposed to write in the box. Those who walk in even though the sign on the door says IF THE DOOR IS CLOSED THEN SO ARE WE. The ones who walk past the bank of computers to the back of the room. Would you do that in the bank? Just walk round the desk?
I have taken about £20,000 in the first three days. One lady has paid her full International fee of £8280 but the admissions office seem to have lost it.
However they have given me a sore throat, so I guess they have their revenge in the end.
