20 Bum Deal

Taggart was slightly peeved when she called me yesterday. Turned out that her work colleagues had been asking her if she'd 'pulled' on holiday.

'What kind of holiday do they think we were going on?!' she exclaimed. 'Don't they realise that we are mature thirty-three year olds and not teenagers now?'

It was pretty rude of them. I mean we'd told everyone that we were going to be purely relaxing and we'd chosen a hotel accordingly. One with a nice spa, rather than a nice bar. And as for men, we weren't going anywhere near the male species. We probably wouldn't even look.

Okay, Taggart did text me as she boarded her flight from Glasgow Airport to say that she was checking out whether there was any talent, but that's normal isn't it? Everyone knows that you have a nosey to see who you will be sharing a plane with. Plus even if there was some hottie it is highly unlikely that he would be sitting next to Taggart. I've flown more times than I can even remember and I've never had any good-looking strangers sitting beside me. Never. It just doesn't happen. It's a flying law. Like gravity.

There also seems to be a new rule that goes hand in hand with going on a plane trip. At least with me anyway. The fact that it is now customary for me to be on the receiving end of airport security banter. The first time was on my date with Fishy when I was told I couldn't board wearing knife and fork earrings. This time was going well initially, I didn't even beep as I went through the mental detector. As I went to collect my bag though I was stopped by one of the security guys who said he needed to search it. Fine. Just a bit inconvenient but I had nothing to hide.

'Er, what's this then?' he asked pulling out something from my bag.

Bugger.

'This looks a bit suspicious to me. What do you think guys?' he asked some of his colleagues holding up the object to show them. 'Do you think we should let her take this through?'

'Why don't you scan it through again on its own?' one of them suggested. 'I agree that it looks dodgy though.'

They discussed it for a bit longer, generating interest with the rest of the people in the queue. What on earth was this girl trying to take on the plane? Fireworks? A pet iguana? A pair of tweezers?

I wish. This was something far, far worse.

Everyone stared as the offending article was placed in a tray to go through the scanners. They looked puzzled when they saw what it was.

A book? Is that it? How could a novel cause such a fuss?

Yep. Just a paperback that I had picked up in the charity shop a few days before. It shouldn't be a big deal at all. Certainly not worthy of the laughter that erupted from everyone as it trundled past them and they got a closer look at it. Or to be more specific, after they had read the title...

'Does My Bum Look Big In This?'

I was mortified. I might have seen the humour in the situation were it not for the fact that I'm sure I saw some people staring at my ass. Which may also have been okay were it not that I'd dressed in leggings, making the answer to that question a resounding yes! I vowed never to dress for comfort again.

Was still slightly smarting as I got on the plane and made my way to my seat. I could see that the two next to mine were already taken. By two young, good-looking guys...

There is a God!!

I couldn't believe it. This had never happened before. Clearly the universe was trying to make up for the ordeal I had just had. I smiled at them as I sat down and said 'Hi'.

It just took a few minutes for the grin to be wiped off my face as I took in the clothes they were wearing, their voices and their relative disinterest in me.

Gay.

How bloody unfair.

The journey passed in silence. It was fine though. I was pretty busy with my book anyway. Then as we were about to land the guy sitting next to me started a conversation with me. We talked about all sorts - how old we are, where we are from, what jobs we do etc. At times, weirdly, it felt as though he was flirting with me but I'd obviously got that wrong. Or so I thought until we started discussing where we were staying in Gran Canaria. Turns out he'd read the reviews of his hotel after he'd booked it and had discovered that it was popular with gay clientele and that him being a straight guy he hoped that wasn't true.

Yep a flipping STRAIGHT guy. A single, straight and hot guy for that matter and I'd sat next to him for almost five hours and not made the most of the opportunity because I thought he danced on the other side of the ballroom. It's just lucky that Taggart and I weren't looking for that kind of holiday or I would really have been annoyed with myself.

Morale of the tale? - It's obvious isn't it? Never judge a book by it's cover.

23 Giddy Kipper

You would think I'd never been on holiday before. Excited is not the word! I can't even concentrate properly, my head is already on the beach.

It probably explains why it took me so long to work out what the dodgy smell was in my fridge earlier. It was a real puzzle because there isn't even that much in there. I picked everything up one by one to sniff them. The mayonnaise, the milk, the wine, the yoghurts, the chocolate. All fine. Nothing out of date. Weird.

I felt pretty stupid when I realised that the aroma was that of fake-tan. From my own out-stretched arm.

I'm probably extra-excited because when Taggart and I first talked about going away, my bank account was screaming 'No!' and it wasn't looking like I could go anywhere.

I was in the middle of thinking up hair-brained schemes to get some cash when I spotted my money pot. I've been putting money in it for a few years, a pound coin here, a fiver there and was only going to break it when it was full which it wasn't quite yet. I was saving for a rainy day though and it has been pissing down recently and I really want to go on holiday, so I decided it was time to smash the pot.

After a quick google to find out the best way to do it (put a chisel in the money slot and just 'lift' the top off) I sat and counted my money...

I only flipping well had seven hundred and fifty-four pounds and twenty pence!!!!

Yep, £754.20!!!

I know - I couldn't believe it either! You wouldn't even imagine that much would fit in the pot. I felt like a lottery winner.

So after a quick call to Taggart to inform her that I'm actually rich and just hadn't realised it, we had a quick search on the internet and a few hours later had booked our respective flights (her from Glasgow, me from Manchester) to meet up in the Canaries.

We've both been giddy kippers since. Well I know I have and the fact that Taggart keeps sending me texts saying things like 'Do you fancy meeting up on Monday? What about meeting half-way? In Gran Canaria say? Woo hoo!' suggests that she is too.

It has an extra special place in our hearts as well, because both Taggart and I used to work there. We knew each other from school but it was the 'Summer of 97' while working in the sunshine, miles away from home that we became proper friends.

Of course it is irrelevant really. We were whippersnappers then, while now we are mature adults. It doesn't really matter where we are going because all we intend to do is sunbathe and relax. We aren't even going to go out. So while I will in theory have plenty of time to blog, I just won't have anything to write about. I mean I know that Taggart and I seem to attract drama to us wherever we go...but not this time. Nope, 'Rapunzel and Taggart do Gran Canaria' is going to make for a very boring read so I won't inflict it on you.

(Note to any men - you realise if you ask me out on a date now, I'll think that you only want me for my money?! And on the same theme, note to everyone - I do not want to return from my holiday to lots of begging letters. Get your own money pot!)