Some legacies are BIG BIRD left behind.

By Annabelle Coates

During my first year at Durham, you could say that I liked to party… a lot. Loft Mondays and Babs Wednesdays were a regular occurrence, and the one place I would always go to get my grub after a night there was Big Bird. If you’re a fresher you might not be aware that Big Bird isn’t exactly known for having the best food post-club, but it IS for sure the cheapest. So it became my go-to spot: no waiting in extra long queues like in Paddy’s or Urban Oven, and an entire boneless feast (as they call it) for only £7.99. 

This brings us to 5 months ago. Easter term had just started, and I had been on my usual Monday night out in Loft. At this point, it had become a ritual to go into Big Bird after close to get my snacks. Unfortunately for me, I was unaware that this had been recognised by the staff. Happy as a daisy, I drunkenly strutted in, ready to order my boneless feast. Only this time, I got to the counter to be greeted with two words that I’ll remember forever: “Welcome back.” Now, some people might think that this was just the cashier being friendly and welcoming me back to Durham after being at home for a month. For me, it was the most horrifying phrase I had ever heard. I had become a Big Bird regular. One could say I had become THE big bird. My friend next to me erupted with laughter as I stood in horror. The cashier immediately knew he may have messed up and started trying to explain what he meant. But the damage was done. 

One could say I had become THE big bird

I began to have what could only be explained as an existential crisis. I had gone out in Durham so much that I had been recognised by the staff at the place I would go to get my drunk meal. I had had a drunk meal after said nights out enough times to even become recognisable. Thankfully, my one saving grace was that we had left the club slightly early that night so as to avoid any form of queue for food, so not a lot of people were present when those two words were spoken to me. And with that, as Easter term continued, I had nearly forgotten the interaction completely. Nearly.

Until disaster struck again. A couple months later, exams had finished and I was living my best life in Durham, enjoying the last few weeks before I went back home. We were at a house event; dancing, drinking, having fun. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see two girls. Their eyes lit up as they said to me: “OMG, you’re the Big Bird regular!” Turns out, they had been standing next to us whilst the fateful interaction had happened all those months ago. And there they were, right in front of me. It was then that I realised my decision to get food from Big Bird that night had turned meinto a legacy. THE Big Bird regular was my new title. I had become infamous. 

Truthfully, will I go into Big Bird again? Of course

I don’t think I went into Big Bird for the rest of term after that. It’s safe to say that I was mortified. Don’t get me wrong, those girls were lovely: we follow each other on Instagram now. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over it, but here I am telling my story very publicly. Will I ever forget it? Absolutely not – my friends will make sure of that. Will I go into Big Bird again? Of course. Now I can look back on it and laugh, because a Big Bird takeaway after a night out will now always remind me of my first year at Durham: full of partying, taking things too far, and saying “It’s only first year, it doesn’t count!” So despite the sheer embarrassment of becoming known as the Big Bird regular, I don’t regret a thing. They’ll probably recognise me for a long time, because I’ll always like to party. But seriously, if you see me in there after a night out, for my own sanity, please don’t call me the Big Bird regular. 

Image Credit: Amanda Sala, Kamara Rahmat