The first thing to note is that no-phones night was more of a concept than a cold, hard reality. Let me explain: the venerable Cambridge institution MASH hosted ‘In the Moment’ by Slipped Disc, a travelling pop-up event featuring dance music and an open bar. What was the catch? Attendees were expected to arrive with an app, Opal, downloaded on their phones. Once activated, the app would restrict access to most apps – promising a no-phones social space, a throwback to bygone, halcyon, screen-free days. It’s not exactly how things played out, but we’ll get there in a moment.

A field reporter’s best friend is her phone; voice memos her weapon of choice, to record interviews on the fly. Obviously, that was not an option for my reporting assignment at no-phones night. Undaunted, my club companions and I packed notepads and biros. We drew signs, stating “Hello! I am with the press,” lest we get any questions about our accessories: that should clear it up.

“Turns out that you can still text and make phone calls with Opal activated – news to me”

Outside MASH, the line was short. At the door we were, indeed, asked to verify that we had activated the Opal app. As I attempted to do so, my phone died; I was officially off the grid. This meant that I didn’t experience the reality of the Opal app as my fellow MASHers did, and that my first interview fell a bit flat. I asked a nice young woman with an excellent fringe whether she worried about her safety, going out without use of her phone? Alternately, if she wanted somebody’s phone number or Instagram, how would she write it down? I received a bit of a look. Turns out that you can still text and make phone calls with Opal activated – news to me.

So, unplugging at MASH was, as mentioned, more a concept than a reality. That said, the prevailing sentiment of ‘In the Moment’ attendees was an earnest desire to get off their devices and collectively improve the going-out scene at Cambridge. In the end, it didn’t really matter that anybody among us could have ducked off the dance floor and started texting, just like any other night.

My second interview was with a group of friends; I think they said they met playing frisbee, though again take that with a grain of salt because, again, no voice memos. I will mention a notepad at the club is a wonderful conversation starter, and I had my ‘with the press’ sign to flash at any questioners. Like half the attendees I spoke to, they were at MASH that evening, not because of the no-phones night, but because the event seemed incidental. They all, however, appreciated the open bar, despite its limited offerings (beer, vodka cran).

“Some were delighted to be away from screens; some, as one woman told me, just couldn’t get Lola’s tickets that night”

One of the frisbee players was already a regular Opal user, using it to limit her phone use while studying. She was echoed by a few other attendees I spoke to, who either expressed interest in continuing to use the app, or were already regular users of other apps. One man in the bathroom line gave a fervent endorsement of an Opal competitor, Forest, where ignoring your phone grows trees in a virtual garden (“Killing the little tree breaks my heart,” read my notes.) A group in the smoking area told me that they’re never on their phones at the club anyways so the themed night made no difference.

Another maybe-frisbee player remarked on the ridiculousness of the Opal app’s main screen, a Steve Jobs quote. “Steve Jobs loved phones,” he noted. Over his shoulder, one of his friends said he’d made it into the event without downloading the app at all, whipping out his phone to show me.

Those two perspectives – appreciation and indifference – represented the main feelings of the night. Some were delighted to be away from screens; some, as one woman told me, just couldn’t get Lola’s tickets that night. Plenty still checked their phones.

What everyone in attendance expressed was an earnest desire for a better Cambridge going-out scene. Many agreed that phones and social media were part of a perceived problem with the city’s nightlife or with our generation’s way of being, even as they still checked their text messages. Everybody agreed that they spend more time on their phones than they like; everybody agreed that Cambridge, as a nightlife town, sometimes falls short. Though its execution fell a bit short – again, plenty of texting at no-phones night – ‘In the Moment’ at MASH represented a shared effort to impose some rules towards a bit more fun on a Sunday night at Cambridge.