In the halcyon days of my youth I frequented a fine drinking establishment called "The Rendezvous Club." Chief among its features was the bartender, who was the cousin of a friend, and who poured with a heavy hand. His accuracy in measurement was legendarily bad, to the point where if I stopped in for a drink and he was on shift, I knew I would have to watch myself if I was going to drive home.

To aid me in knowing when to quit, on arrival I would avail myself of one of the many pinball machines on premises and play a few games to test my skill. Later in the evening I would play a few more, and if my score dropped below a certain point I would stop for the night, switching to plain soda and playing until my Houdini score regained its original height. Since I have never been all that great at games requiring fine motor skills, this process would take a while, but at least I had something to do while I waited for the buzz to wear off.

Twenty-five years later it becomes obvious that I was ahead of my time. Those wacky Germans have developed a game using a similar technique to demonstrate to drunken male patrons that they really need to take a cab home. But — and this will surprise no-one — they took it to a new level. It's a driving game, with the screens mounted above the pub's urinals; you steer by, well, by peeing on a metal plate. No, really.

I am sure my brother's girlfriend will be horrified when he reads this to her, as I feel certain he'll want to install one in the living room. Hell, it'll be de rigeur at the Delta House.