I shamble in from a brisk cold spring morning still kissed by winters spell. The second I enter the establishment the smell assaults my senses. The garlic, the cheap plastic, the baby vomit. Ah Chuck E Cheeses. Where kids can be kids. If only 25 years ago I had known. There I stood again in the now occupied space that once housed the arcade classics we had been accustomed to in the early nineties. And now here I was again a full grown man of 36, no longer just a chubby young lad on the cusp o...