Picture the scene: you bump into someone you vaguely recognize on the street, and you know nothing more than their name. You see them regularly throughout our town’s three streets and once again, you’ve run into them. The conversation follows the regular niceties, but before you part ways one of you says, “Let’s grab coffee soon!”. At this point, the phrase is meaningless, nearly as meaningless as the responding phrase, “Yes, I’ll text you.”

Let's be honest, you don’t even have their number. Do either people follow up? Probably not (I surely don’t). This cycle of performative friendship continues until the next inevitable encounter.

Around first semester second year I began to feel as though I had a great number of friends but very few that I genuinely considered close. I found myself continuously falling into the trap of adulthood in St Andrews: the coffee chat. And no, I am not referring to the already mind numbing way we network, but the performative superficial walk to Palampos, clouded with surface level conversation and small talk. I have come to the conclusion that these chats are fine in small doses because it is great to talk to a friend, but true connection only arises when you share new experiences with one another. You may be thinking, “Wow, she just said the most elementary thing ever,” (true). Nonetheless, I ask you to think about how many friends you create new experiences with, ones that don’t include grabbing coffee and chatting.

These surface level friendships fail to satisfy us as they lack deeper connection. This fuels feelings of nostalgia for high school friends, or the “middle school science table,” as TikTok coins the feeling. It's not that those people were particularly interesting or the experiences particularly phenomenal, but there was always something happening together, something bigger than small talk. This is why so many people in this town are mainly friends with their flatmates. Those are the people you do the errand running, movie watching, and meal sharing with. These experiences actually bring people together, unlike simply regurgitating gossip we hear throughout town. A coffee catch up does not actually fuel our friendships; it stalls them and reflects a self-centred part of us where we crave talking about ourselves. 

This is a phenomenon that women in particular experience in St Andrews. Women are conditioned to have more solitary hobbies, a mainstream hobby even being “self care”. Therefore, within these female circles there are little group-focused hobbies to choose from, so we find ourselves sharing nothing. We turn to coffee, the vice we all hold dearly as we make our way through university. I am not denying that conversation is crucial to forming a deeper connection with a friend, but lacking shared experience with one another prevents any valuable conversation from emerging. This is something that I, unwillingly, want to say that the guys in this town have figured out, at least somewhat. They have their Sunday League, golfing, and horrifying drinking games (what is Cock or Balls??), while it seems that girls in this town have a harder time proposing hangouts which include an experience rather than just grabbing coffee. 

I believe there is a simple reason why people in this town, especially women, keep the coffee chat cycle going: it’s all too easy. Asking someone to get coffee is an act which requires little effort, making us feel like this friendship is another thing on the to-do list to force in between tutorials and grocery runs. However, when I leave these situations I am always exhausted in a way that makes me want to seek solace in my room. Coffee chats are the dinner dates of friendship, fabulous when done tastefully, tragic when it's the only thing pursued. Let's switch it up: let’s go to the movies (RIP, might have to head to Dundee), go to Blind Mirth, attend a pub quiz, or play golf. Do things which challenge you to do more than just talk shit about the people and situations in this town, and your friendships will thank you.