Back in 2010, I headed over to the UK to spend a few days working in Liverpool. It was a bit last minute and required a move that I’ve done all too often: the suitcase swap. When I have two adjacent trips, I’ll pack two suitcases and leave one in the car at the airport. Then upon arrival, run out, switch bags, and head back in catch the next flight. This time I was going to drop off the work gear, meet up Jenn, and catch a flight down to Costa Rica for my buddy Paul’s wedding. I had a few hours cushion, so it was tight but very possible. Unless of course, some freak accident occurred. When I went to check out of my Liverpool hotel, the clerk asked if I was going to the
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