Cyberscoop, Cyberscope

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Saturday night I found myself in the middle of a good few hundred people, pumping my fist in the air and singing all the wrong words along to Jack Parow. Tri-varsity (or Intervarsity for the littluns) is always a write-off. My short time wedged between sweaty strangers only served to confirm this. A hooligan was tasered, almost everyone was groped, a self-proclaiming sober man was shoulder-swinging and somehow, from somewhere, a blue porta potty door was crowdsurfing.

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As someone who can recall the intricate details of The Faraway Tree but forgets to pack underwear for a weekend trip, I have often been referred to as an absent-minded professor. Being forgetful of the more useful things in life has its downsides, so when my bank issued me with a shiny new debit card a few years ago, I was happier than Rebecca Black on a Friday. No longer did I have to fret about forgetting the paper in my purse. There was only one downside; forgetting the card is as useless as forgetting the cash. In a world where the Internet is only a cellphone away, the concept of digital currency might be a solution for the Walter Bishops among us.

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