The fear of being sent back from the stage in front of 800 people after a false call has been a sporadic nightmare of mine – but I think everyone leaves their dignity at the door anyway. It’s surprising how complex this seems a few venoms deep. The rules are simple when sober: one line, shout bingo, two lines in a house, shout bingo, full house, shout bingo. Venoms (£10 a pop), felt-tips, and bingo booklets in hand, we began to play. A better view of the dancing, half-naked men is simply a bonus don’t worry, two massive screens allow everyone in on the action. If you want to maintain any level of concentration and chance of winning, the closer to the front you can sit, the better. We were slightly late after discovering the Record Factory’s frose machine. I don’t recommend wearing new white trainers. The ground is so sticky it feels like you are walking on velcro. SWG3 was transformed to what looks like a dinner hall with disco lights. Having been before, I (sort of) knew what to expect. I’d go back again and again even though the odds of another win are, dare I say, nonexistent. It was the cherry on top of a top tier night out.

I was not expecting to win anything … never mind walk away with the £700 jackpot.

So, for a special game like Bongo’s Bingo, which requires nothing but luck, concentration, and booze, I am more than happy to participate. I am not competitive by nature (youngest child, shit at Monopoly). I lost my Bongo’s Bingo virginity under the twinkling lights of SWG3 at the end of last year, and I could not wait for round two after The Glasgow Guardian was invited back. “ Bongo’s Bingo is no dignifying experience – and I mean this as high praise.”

Bingo bonker