Just like the rest of you, I am a member of the credit nation. I very seldomly carry cash. More often than not, if I’m purchasing something, I use my bank card/debit card. On the back of my card, in the spot reserved for the cardholder’s signature, I wrote C.I.D. This is a tip to the cashier to ask to see my identification and make sure I’m the same chap who is on the debit card. I am not exaggerating here…in the past two weeks, I’ve used the card a number of times, both in uniform and in my civilian attire. The only time I’ve been asked to present matching identification? When I’m in uniform. WTF?
Uh, Mr. Purveyor of what is most likely some shit I don’t really need, what kind of elaborate scheme do you think I’m running here? Look at my fucking shirt…see that name there? Yeah, the one that matches the name on the card? I’m the same cat, man. Figure it out. Did you think you’re breaking up some devious plot designed by terrorists to slowly defraud the U.S. Government one pack of Stride gum at a time?
My plan has been foiled (at which point, I take six months to grow out a handlebar mustache, wax that bitch down good, then grab it between my thumb and evil pointer finger and wait for my oddly human dog to wheezingly snicker), you bastard. I cleverly entered the lair of my sworn enemy, donned his very uniform, showed up for his shift, took his bike, even wrote a few tickets. I was hoping to lure you into a false sense of security by doing all of these things and then I was going to enter your humble Stop-n-Rob and make off with the goods (in the form of the aforementioned gum and possibly *gasp* some sunflower seeds…I may even combine the two because in my twisted mind, the flavor combination would probably be orgasmic). Your brilliant deduction has saved us all. If Jack Bauer is ever killed, please apply for his position. You would do him proud.
I don’t carry my ID when I’m in uniform. I figure the fact that my name is one my shirt and I have a badge and a gun is enough. The real kicker? When I tell the cashier I don’t have ID and then I point at my shirt, they just shrug and say okay. Hey, Jag-off, what’s the bloody point of asking me for it if you’re not going to enforce any kind of standard? Man, I could totally take over the world.
When I’m in civilian clothes, though? Nothing. I could have just hit the real MC over the head with a brick, taken his bank card, and headed off to begin my little crime spree. Does Betty behind the counter at Best Buy give a shit? Nope.
Again, I ask you, WTF?