Saturday night was the last ever National Theatre of Scotland Allotment. Which felt like occasion enough to drag through to Govan for an evening.

The theme of this particular Allotment was "playing, dating, moving and shaking". In fact, I didn't do much of any of these but I did try.

So this time around, we had 17 "installations" I suppose you might say. Number one was Rose Ruane who stood in a box with a peepshow window all night and gyrated suggestively to the accompaniment of various rowdy musical tracks. You could scratch your comments onto the surrounding blackboards in a lovely white marker pen.

Number two could have been created just for me. Computer terminals allowing access to Natter, a "live visual chat room" which cunningly looked for all the world like twitter and hooked up to a giant screen projecting your witticisms (nattercisms?) to the assembled company.

The carousel of doom. Well, this was a manually powered tall roundabout really. Hard to see the precise point of it, aside from allowing people to sit, place their drinks on it and then sending them hurtling across the room (the drinks rather than the people) as soon as someone put their back into it and got the thing spinning. But then I chose not to sit on it so perhaps I thus missed the doom. Or the doom only befell the drinks. Or. Who knows.

Six degrees of separation was a girl in a soft blue jumpsuit with a pink flash on her back who assembled six strangers and endeavoured to uncover their six degrees. Despite the most generous interpretation of a connection, she totally failed with our six. Beyond a possible years apart crossing of paths in a pub in East Kilbride for a boy from Stirling and a fellow from somewhere outside of Glasgow.

I shall not force you to walk with me through the other 13 experiences. Suffice to say we did not take part in the live poetry composition. We did contribute to the Mercury newsroom with real profundity. We did not take part in the giant wordsearch. Russell did pick up the ringing phone and might possibly have confessed his darkest secrets but they only asked him how many cats you could fit into a double decker bus. We did not pop our heads into the live facebox. We did allow the Love Calculator to work its magic. But as it paired him with a boy and me with a girl, I must question his judgement. Though mother would love it to be right. And we did sign up for the group speed dating experience at the nearby secret location and that, courtesy of Fluid Networks with the slightly sordid accompanying gesture, was the undoubted highlight of the night. Despite getting rained on, en route.

I think, by way of a summary, I would say it didn't work quite as well as the gaming night. But then as the gaming night was touched by the brush (albeit vicarious) with stardom, maybe it never would have measured up. Neither of us came away with love. Yet, at any rate. But it was full of the young and the very beautiful. I did come away with a profound piece of wisdom courtesy of the girl in the gold lycra body suit:

WHEN WE REALISE WE ARE ALL MAD, EVERYTHING MAKES SENSE

And I musn't forget about my tiny Fluid Network's hug. Recreate the experience for yourself here. So all in all, a well-ploughed night. I'd recommend it if it hadn't been The Last. Ever.