"Prague? Are you serious?" "This had better be worth my while." "A man? You want me to fly halfway around the world to meet a man?" "If he tries to touch me I expect you to bail me out." "Okay. Make sure there's a driver waiting for me at the airport." "Ah go fuck yourself." "Yes dear, I know you will." Slam!!!

That is one thing you cannot do with a cell phone. Not only do you risk breaking it, but it does not have that satisfying clunk. Well, I'd better get packed and call a cab. I'm not leaving a tool truck at the airport for a week.

My boss is a right royal pain in the arse, but when he really wants something from me he pulls out all the stops. First class, Albuquerque to Prague with two stops. TSA is no problem, I behave myself and am through in a jiffy.

I have a quick bite at DFW and a nap at Heathrow, then it's on to Prague. It is a beautiful day, hardly a cloud to be seen. The snow is crisp, brilliant white, the view superb. I toy with the idea of another nap, but the scenery has me enthralled. I have to say, Prague is a lovely city, this could be fun.

Getting through customs and immigration is relatively painless. Fat grannies do not tend to be regarded as a threat. So it's off to see the driver.

Who has come to collect me, I wonder. There are maybe a dozen or so men, some with chauffeur's caps, holding signs. None that I can see say "Grace" or ... Oh. My. God.

Did I say "Oh. My. God?" Let me repeat, just in case I wasn't clear. Oh. My. God.

Purple, figure-hugging, mid-thigh dress. Mid-calf fur boots. Red, shoulder-length hair. Mid-thirties. Five feet six inches. 36C 24 36. Around her shoulders hangs a wide red ribbon, tied in a bow. To the bow is attached a label. "Merry Christmas, Grace."

Boss, I love you, you miserable old fart.