Now it’s an absolute fact that for various reasons, we all at some point get people mixed up, whether it’s calling them by the wrong name or simply a case of mistaken identity.

Discussing this with my friends I confessed.

“For at least six months I called a young guy in the office Ross.

“Morning Ross, night Ross, how are you today Ross?

“Until one morning I called over to him and he didn’t respond.

“So I said, Ross, sorry, I thought you heard me.

“But he looked rather frustrated as he turned round and stated ‘Janice, my names Tom, not Ross.

“Tom?” I kept repeating.

“Tom?”

“But I’ve been calling you Ross for at least six months.”

“I know you have Janice.” Was the curt reply.

“Well.” I said to the girls who found the situation amusing.

“I didn’t know whether to laugh at my stupidity, or cry at the fact he obviously knew there was not much point in correcting me!”

“That’s nothing,” suggested Christine as she went on to recall a sunny Saturday morning when she made a spectacular fool of herself.

You see Christine’s husband Colin had gone outside to work on their old Ford Escort, and after a while she decided to take him out a cup of tea and some digestive biscuits.

However, Colin was working underneath the car and all she could see was his oily blue overall legs sticking out.

Being a bit of a prankster, Christine scanned up and down the road to check if anyone was about before she had her bit of fun.

Seeing the coast was clear she knelt down next to her husband, put the tea and biscuits to one side and leant over and tickled his private parts whilst whispering.

“You having fun under there handsome?”

Colin, however, was naturally shocked at suddenly having his bits tampered with and bolted upright causing an agonising bang to his forehead.

“Argh….” he yelped in pain.

Christine quickly realised that perhaps this wasn’t her brightest idea.

However, as if that wasn’t bad enough, apparently she continued to pat his nether regions whilst saying. “There, there sorry sorry.”

Suddenly, a dark shadow came over Christine, and squinting in the morning sunshine she looked up to see her husband Colin in his pristine blue overalls towering over her with a strange look in his eyes.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded an explanation.

Staring at the blue overalls underneath their car she was scared to ask.

“Well, who’s that?”

Just at that Frank came out from underneath the old vehicle, head throbbing and looking for the culprit who had been groping his groin.

“Frank, this is my wife Christine.” Colin shook his head.

“Christine, this is my colleague Frank.”

We thought Christine’s antics were hilarious, which added fuel to our conversation about people mix-ups, so I decided to enlighten my pal’s about a recent conversation with my good friend Raymond who confessed to a cracker of a mix-up.

To let you understand, Raymond is a painter and decorator who takes great pride in his work and is always friendly towards everyone, especially potential customers, and on this occasion was using his warm chit-chat to win over Mr MacDonald in the hope of securing a decorating job.

“Well,” Raymond started a comical account of his working week.

“I went round to give Mr MacDonald a quote Janice, and had only been in his house for five or ten minutes when scanning his tiny living room I couldn’t help but notice a large framed picture sitting on his mantelpiece.”

And I wondered where this story was heading.

“So quite innocently I said to him.”

“Lovely house you have here Mr MacDonald.”

Keeping the conversation flowing he continued.

“I see you’re a darts fan then?”

“Me?”

“Darts?”

Apparently Mr MacDonald was somewhat bewildered.

“Yes,” Raymond repeated.

“Darts.”

“Naw son.” Mr McDonald seemed confused.

“I like to watch the football now and then.”

“What makes you think I’m into darts?”

“Well,” Raymond went on to explain.

“I noticed you’ve got a large picture of Jocky Wilson on your mantelpiece.”

Raymond then gestured to the picture.

“So I assumed you were a fan of the darts champion.”

Apparently there was a long uneasy silence before Mr MacDonald took a deep breath before explaining.

“Son, that’s not Jocky Wilson.

“That’s my wife.”

Well, we nearly rolled off our seats laughing at Raymond’s embarrassing dilemma of assuming the picture of Mr MacDonald’s wife was that of Jocky Wilson!

Finally composing ourselves Christine asked the question on everyone’s lips.

“Well then, did Raymond get the decorating job?”

“Let’s just say he’s foolishly optimistic.” I chuckled.