rip boarding pass

Well, I'm off to a rather inauspicious start. I stood on line at the Qantas check-in for 15 minutes yesterday, until my Dad came in after parking the car--to see me off--and pointed me to the British Airways line. Yoops. Then, upon my arrival in Heathrow, I smartly tucked my boarding pass to Prague in my passport, which I had in my hand, and so I'm trundling along to passport control, quite pleased with myself and my ability to have kept the plane aloft across the Atlantic, through sheer will, and next thing I know I'm looking down at boarding pass-shaped hole in space. Passport? check. Various other crappy bits of paper stuffed in my purse? Naturellement. Boarding pass? Not a chance. So I retrace my steps, and even ask the nice BA flight attendant lady to go have a look at my seat. Nothing, rien, nada, nichevo. Have it in whatever language you like! It won't bring back boarding pass. Boarding pass = Kaputski. RIP boarding pass.

OK, well, they reissued it easliy enough, but the point is (and I do have one?) I'm an eejit. Now I'm in Gatwick, waiting waiting....