This is a short post, because it’s a Bank Holiday in the UK so nobodywillbereadingme, and as a Bank Holiday it’s strictly speaking maid’s day off.

It’s another holiday disaster story, but if anything is even better than the one about my mate Stuart. I give you Richella Heekin (crazy name, crazy gal) and her partner Ben Marlow, of Sutton Coldfield. Given where they live, it’s not all that surprising they decided to get away for a few days, and splashed some money to go to Las Vegas.

You know the saying, ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’? Never been closer to the truth. They rocked up at Birmingham airport and found, to their surprise and discomfiture, that the check in desk was closed. Odd, they thought, and sought help.

At this point Ms Heekin was about to come close to dying of shame and embarrassment. The airport staff pointed out that she had booked online to fly not from Birmingham in the Midlands, but from Birmingham-Shuttlesworth airport in Alabama.

That’s a pretty special mistake to make, isn’t it? Beats losing your luggage into a cocked hat. It’s one of those you don’t come back from, I reckon. It’s not an easy mistake to make is it?

Returning to the theme of Stuart and his errant passport. When he rolled up at the consulate to get his emergency passport, he, being Stuart, somehow contrived to smack his head on the door of the taxi when he arrived. He couldn’t understand why the person handling his application kept looking at him a bit askance. He only figured it out when he caught sight of himself in a mirror and realised blood was trickling down his face from his head wound.

He once said to me,’ You know you get that feeling that it’s going to be one of those days? I get that a lot.’