Sidetracked



Undone

I'm really sick of getting carded for cigarettes and then having a conversation/debate with the cashier about how the person in the picture really is me.

The ID is three years old. I was a little chunkier back then, a little bit on the punk side (yes, I really did think I was "punk" back in high school) with my purple spiky hair and glittery makeup, so yeah, I look a little different.

But I'm the same person!

Just because my cheeks aren't as round, my hair is longer and brown, and I wear glasses now, doesn't mean I'm handing out fake IDs.

Today was especially bad. Times are rough right now. I'd have to say I've definitely been better. After staying up for hours last night smoking the rest of my cigarettes, and then crying until my eyes were swollen to the point of no return, and then more crying, I really needed a cigarette this morning.

I make my way down to the gas station, ask for the usual, and give my ID to the cashier. He looks at it for about two minutes, then looks at me, then looks at the ID some more. At this point it's pretty obvious that I'm not feeling too good, nor am I feeling chatty.

"Is this you?" He says.

For Christ sake, if it was a fake ID I certainly wouldn't say, "No that's not me. Can I have my cigarettes?"

I say nothing, take my ID from him and stuff it in my wallet. He runs my card and prints the receipt.

Then he asks me if I'm having a good day.

I almost burst into tears.

Why? Why can't the cashiers just realize that I'm not an imposter, let me buy my cigarettes, and allow me to be on my way.

I sign the receipt and leave.

This sucks.

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