Welcome to the EU ! The World's most exclusive nightclub

Welcome to the European Union, folks! The hottest, most exclusive nightclub on the continent, and trust us—if you’re not on the guest list, you’re not getting in. Picture this: the velvet ropes are up, the bouncers (aka bureaucrats) are checking your credentials, “ ID, please ? ” and the DJ is spinning a track that’s a mix of trade agreements, human rights, and vague promises of unity. Here we use words that we don’t necessarily understand. But before you step inside, let’s talk about the vibe.

Getting into this club is no easy feat. To even have a shot, you’ve gotta prove your worth. Forget about a flashy outfit or knowing the right people—here, it’s all about your standards. Are you a stable liberal democracy? Can you keep your economy green and in check? Are you willing to adopt a complex set of rules that no one really understands but are definitely non-negotiable? Welcome to the EU’s door policy, where only the “good enough” get to party with the cool kids. And if you’re one of those countries still working on your “application,” well, enjoy standing in line.

The Dress Code: strict, but stylish

Once inside, you’ll notice that everyone looks very similar. It’s all about conformity here. Sure, each country has its own national dress—maybe a bit of Belgian beer, a French beret, or some German lederhosen—but once you’re in, it’s all about unity. Don’t even think about wearing anything too out there, like that one country that wants to keep its own currency instead of the Euro. The audacity ! You'll be getting side-eye all night.

You’ve also got to follow the rules—no exceptions. You might be allowed to dance to your own beat, but make sure you're respecting the code. Our code reigns. No crazy shouting “Brexit!” or any “exit” in the middle of the party. That kind of talk could get you escorted out faster than you can say “European Parliament.” The playlist is already ready, we might discuss the song mixing but everyone has to agree on the playlist before anything goes down. That’s how democracy runs around here.

The beats

At the heart of this buzzing establishment are the DJs—otherwise known as the Eurocrats. They’re in charge of setting the mood, but don’t expect a smooth, hip beat. The tracks they spin are long, complicated, and often involve last-minute changes. Need a quick decision? Forget about it, these guys thrive on endless discussions and “compromise remixes” that stretch into hours of behind-the-scenes talks: that’s where the real party goes on, they’ve got their hands on all the knobs, and they don’t mind making you wait until the perfect consensus is reached. It’s a slow jam of negotiations that leaves everyone wondering: When will this party actually start?or when does it even end?

 The VIP section

Then, of course, there’s the VIP section—also known as the core members. France, Germany, Italy, and Spain are here, having a blast with their extra privileges. These countries get the best tables, first dibs on policy decisions, and maybe even a little more access to the free drinks (aka subsidies). Meanwhile, those smaller countries who just managed to squeeze in? They're left trying to elbow their way to the bar, hoping to get some attention from the big players.

Oh, and don’t forget the bickering. In this nightclub, there’s always that one group in the corner loudly arguing about who gets the most funds or whose turn it is to host the next summit. It’s a classic case of “if you want to be in the club, you’ve gotta make a fuss,” but don’t worry—no one really gets kicked out. They’ll just argue for hours until they’re “reconciled” and return to the dance floor.

A Blend of the same old, same old drink

When it comes to drinks, the selection is predictably European. What do you think ? You’ve got your classics—beer, wine, maybe a little schnapps—but don’t ask for anything too exotic. Not before the Mercosur drinks delivery. If you’re looking for something different, you’ll get a look of disapproval, as if you’re violating some sacred union of flavors. At this club, there’s no room for innovation; we’re serious up in here, it’s all about the status quo and making sure everyone is happy with what they already know. Fancy a cocktail? Well, good luck with that—most drinks are served in the same old glass, with the same old mix: strong, complex, and with a kick of bitterness, just like our policies. Let’s dive in :

Ingredients:

-       2 oz Belgian dark Rum, this Rum has a complicated taste at first and multiple after tastes.

-       1 oz Polish Vodka, the Eastern Bloc, often not happy with our policies.

-       1 oz Hungarian Pálinka, boy oh boy ! this is a hint of democratic backsliding and authoritarian tendencies

-       1/2 oz Greek Ouzo ongoing bailout crises

-       1/2 oz French Absinthe because, let's face it, a strong and bitter drink is perfect for critiques of complex bureaucracy

-       1/4 oz Italian Amaretto a sweet touch to remind us that European unity has its good sides, but it's often overshadowed by the darker truths

-       A splash of Czech Pilsner to remind us that even within unity, there’s always room for more beer

-       2 dashes of Angostura bitters because EU politics sometimes feel like a bitter pill to swallow

-       A twist of lemon peel representing the ever-present hope for a better future, but often feeling just out of reach

Instructions:

-       Combine the Base: In a mixing glass, combine the Belgian rum, Polish vodka, Hungarian pálinka, and Greek ouzo. Stir well the complex mix of EU nations.

-       Add the Amaretto and Absinthe: Pour in the sweet amaretto to balance the bitterness of the absinthe. Stir with a resigned sigh, acknowledging that the EU is often a mix of both extremes.

-       Top it Off: Add a splash of Czech pilsner for that effervescent, fleeting sense of unity, and a dash of bitters for the EU’s enduring complexity.

-       Stir and Strain: Stir with the kind of bureaucracy that never ends, and strain into a chilled glass, ensuring that no simple solution ever makes it through.

-       Garnish: Add a twist of lemon peel, symbolizing almost sarcastic optimism surrounding the EU’s future.

Warning: This drink may leave you questioning your own citizenship status and pondering the long-lasting consequences of “united in diversity.”

 Security !

But be careful—if you step out of line, the bouncers aka the Commission is always on the lookout. Ursula is no more than 5 feet 4, and she will get you all the way together. Do not get it twisted. They’ll issue a stern warning, and if you’re lucky, you’ll just get a mild reprimand and sent off to a smaller room called the “Schengen Area.” Step too far out of line, and you’ll be on your way out faster than you can say “Copenhagen Criteria.” Area ? Criteria ? does it ryhme ?

Thank you for coming !

As the night winds down, the real drama begins. Closing time in the EU nightclub doesn’t come easy. No one wants to leave, and the negotiations about when to call it a night drag on for what feels like an eternity. But the reality is, the party can’t go on forever. No afters ! Some countries—mainly those with financial struggles—want to leave early, but they’re stuck, bound by rules and endless rounds of talks. And as for those hoping for a new invite next year? They’re still asking for a cigarette outside. Good luck, buddy. Getting past the bouncers is harder than ever.

So, next time you think about joining the EU, remember: it’s not just about the music—it’s about the rules, the negotiations, and hoping you’ve got the right credentials. It’s a nightclub where unity is the name of the game… but only if you’re willing to follow the dress code, play by the rules, and, above all, wait for the beat aka the consensus to finally drop.

Careful on the stairs !

Picture of stairs in the European Parliament taken on the 21st November 2024

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