Call the Police
For someone who doesn't like poker, I sure am great at calling a bluff.
I've stated this many times, but it bears repeating. I am not afraid of the police.
I realize that statement would often need a qualifier like "at my job" or "on the clock" for people who aren't 6-foot-8 and of a lighter hue. But in general terms, no, I'm not afraid of the police.
Adding in the qualifier "on the clock," however, and I'm even more well aware of how protected I am from the threat of a 911 call.
There is nothing the police will solve by you, the minor, calling the police. I'm not stealing anything. You willfully gave it to me. I'm not harassing you. You were the one lying and trying to swindle me. I'm not preventing you from doing something legal. You seek to break the law.
The police don't like that very much.
It was a 10-spot weekend, bringing my total up to 219 in one calendar year since catching my first fake ID. A couple of weeks ago I achieved the feat of 203 IDs within one year of my start date. I found 41 since my return from Spain.
No, you can be amazed. I was not expecting that high of a number either.
Now for the last 10.
Friday Fake No. 1 (210): Birthday Bummer
I think it's some pack mentality afoot when a whole group offers up the weakest to start their night. The first ID of Friday night came a little later than expected -- because we weren't that busy -- but man, was it fun to bash a whole group's hopes.
I get it. My bar is a fun, youthful place of jovial enjoyment. Ideal for birthdays and pub crawls. But if you have a group of ... 12 people and one of them has a fake ID, then it doesn't matter where in line you put them, I'm checking the whole group.
And that's just what I did. I saw Lambchop offer up his fauxhio and I had a thirst for more. Alas, the other 11 members of the group were all of age. The fun starts when you ask everyone around you to leave.
Some are stunned. Some don't know what to do.
And there are some that are angry at the person with the fake ID.
Which doesn't make any sense? It's not the faker's fault they didn't get away with using a fake. It's whoever chose to come to my bar on a Friday or Saturday (or Tuesday) night.
If you see the tall bald guy, run away.
Friday Fake No. 2 & 3 (211 & 212): Faceless Women
I can't tell you how excited I am to understand most of these Game of Thrones references. Xfinity has been a big help in deciphering why people were calling me a "Mountain" over the past three years. Or why "Dany" and "Sansa" are popular internet treasures despite no discernible acting talent.
But my favorite character is probably Arya, who is straight out of the Joss Whedon (am I allowed to say that name?) handbook of small, badass female protagonists.
The ability to take on another persona at will takes a lot of time. Something Nos. 211 and 212 failed to grasp when using someone else's IDs.
The primary failure of 211 and 212 was not planning on showing proof other than a student ID. I remember when I had a college student ID.
Let me rephrase. I remember when I had, like six college student IDs. Left in the washing machine. Check. Left in the football locker room. Check. Left in the dining hall and not realized until a week later. Check. Left in Wisconsin. Discount Double Check.
Bringing a student ID as a backup makes me want to throw that piece of plastic down the sewer. Then you might have a case for calling the police on me.
Facebook continues to be the bearer of bad news for these minors, as one quick glance and the Dean's List Kristen they were supposed to be looks an awful lot like the senior picture Samantha pre freshman 15.
Friday Fake No. 4: (213): Mmmm Bop
Names with Ms are hard, especially when they're not your names. In this case, a girl using a double-M name forgot both the last letter of the first name and the first letter of the second name. As I said, both names began with the letter M.
Saturday Fake No. 1 (214): Turn That Frown Upside Down, Then Go Home.
"What did we do?" is one of my favorite responses when someone is caught with a fake. It screams of privilege. You gave me an Indiana ID showing teeth. I've been on that fact since Day 1.
Saturday Fake No. 2 (215): "Easy peasy, mac n' cheesy."
Another toothy Indiana. She paid some good money, though. Looked close to the real thing.
Saturday Fake No. 3 (216): Vertical Limit
I come across my fair share of vertical IDs, however, this was only the third I've confiscated. Different eyes and four inches from what the height was supposed to be (taller) were dead giveaways. It was the wallet that threw me.
I asked for a second form of ID and he said he didn't have any. A normal statement, sure, but this kid had a wallet with 30 different cards, photos or bills in his wallet. This thing was bursting at the seams and not one card had his name on it?
Saturday Fake No. 4 (217): Screaming Eagles
The bat-shit crazy award of Saturday night goes to this faker, who took it to a whole new level.
The ID didn't look like her, had the wrong eye color and jawline. It was simple stuff, but for being as late as it was, I had to be sure.
"How do you spell your address?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she played a role I can only equate to "person who just downed a bottle of wormwood absinthe."
She acted like she was the drunkest person alive.
"Miss, what is your address?"
"Bnnhhdfjjsfh fdskjdvs ckagd hmmph."
"Well ... I'm going to take this now."
And then the strangest thing. She bounced back like "Eye of the Tiger" was turned to 11 in her head.
"GIVE IT BACK. THAT'S MY ID. IF YOU DON'T GIVE IT TO ME I'M GOING TO CALL THE POLICE!"
"Call the police all you want. I was just asking how you spell your street name."
"Mmnndrpllmed brunhmpt frrrnsknr," she replied as she dropped her wallet on the ground.
"Um. So I'm going to ask you to leave now."
After 10 minutes of screaming and yelling and holding up a line wrapping around the block, she finally took off in an Uber.
At the end of the night, the friend with the actual ID came up to me and asked for the ID back.
I told her to take care of something with all of the necessary expediency of an Armando Iannucci character.
Saturday Fake No. 5 (218): "How am I supposed to get home?"
Probably sitting on your friend's handlebars because that's how old you looked.
Saturday Fake No. 6 (219): Serbian Shorty
As I mentioned above, M names are hard. They are made infinitely harder when they're Eastern European. This kid failed on the second letter of the last name, but that's not why he gets some screen space.
He tried the bribing game.
"How about if I give you $20 and I get the ID back?"
"No amount of money will work."
"$40."
"No."
"$50. No, make that $100."
I know all of the people that come to my bar spending $100 and this kid was not one of them.
"Listen, no amount of money you can offer will give this back to you. It's a personal point of pride at this point."
"$200."
"Do you even have $200?"
He walked away. For a few minutes, at least.
"Here," he said, holding $40 in his hand. "This is $40 for the ID."
"Not $200? That seems like a ripoff. Now I'm out $160 of your money. That doesn't seem fair."
He borrows $10 from his friend. All ones.
"This is $50 right here. You're really telling me you'll pass up this cash right now."
"Listen, the next time you stick that money in my face I'm going to assume you wanted me to have it all along. Like a tip for me doing such a good job taking your ID."
"What if I bought you a beer?"
"So We went from 20 to 40 to 50 to 100 to 200 to 40 to 50, and now we're at $5. That doesn't seem like a good deal to me."
"Whatever, man."
Touche.
