‘Can I see your ID?’

Nothing huge this evening, just a wee post!  I’m going to eat these words eventually, I’m sure of it, but I am just about fed up of getting asked for my identification when buying things of an adult nature (alcohol, for example).  I understand that the cashier has a job to do and there’s serious consequences if they don’t.  It’s not really them I’m annoyed with, I’ve been there.  And of course, it’s lovely to be mistaken for being 10 years younger than you really are.

This evening it was for a scratch ticket. A whim purchase when I nipped to the shop to get Rice Krispies to make the eponymous snack.  All I brought with me was my smiling face and my wallet.  Now, because my only legitimate forms of ID in the UK consist of a resident permit which would cost me £800 to replace if I lost it (and I do lose things, often) and my passport, I don’t often bring them out with me.  I still have an American driver’s license, but it tends to get weird looks (once had a cashier determine it was legit because I’m an organ donor, worked for me!) so I don’t tend to bother with it.

The legal age for lottery tickets in the UK is 16 and while booze has been an id problem for me in the past, lottery never has.  But there came the question and the awkward shifting through my wallet and the sheepish “well, no ma’am, I don’t have it.  I am 26, if that helps”.  Which after considering she decided to go for it.  But then I felt bad, if I had been an undercover minor, she would have gotten in a lot of trouble.  And my £2 donation to the Olympics was not really worth it.

I suppose it’s the inconvenience of me just not having a handy card that slips easily into my wallet, which often results in me not being able to prove my age.  And some irritation on my part, because I’ve always been mistaken for being younger than I am, so in a sense I still have a child’s mentality that says “I’m a big girl now!”  And it’s not a nice feeling when you have to walk out of the shop feeling like a naughty child who chanced their arm and got caught.

I guess I can say I’m flattered, even if annoyed.  As I said, I’m sure I’ll look back on this and regret not enjoying being ID’d!

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