Thursday, August 02, 2018


The other day a prominent politician claimed that you need an ID to go shopping. Which surprised me, because in the last week I have purchased both food and drink from a convenience store, small Dutch cigars from a tobacconist, vegetables from several shops in Chinatown, as well as noodles and coffee from one of those shops, and hot sauce.

In California you must be able to prove that you are twenty one years of age or older to buy tobacco products. I look significantly more than that.
They did not ask for my ID.

"You know, if you go out and you want to buy groceries, you need a picture on a card, you need ID."

The convenience store is staffed by Sub-Continentals (messrs. Singh), the places in Chinatown by Cantonese. At least I think they are Cantonese. They speak Cantonese. But they could be outer space aliens.
I am a horrible judge of character.

No one asked for my ID.
This isn't Florida.

It is doubtful that in all the instances I mentioned except the tobacconist an ID would be useful, because in the vast majority of cases most people do not resemble their pictures (my passport shows some old git I do not know, and my ID card has a picture of a thoroughly evil looking lizard), and to many neighborhood shopkeepers all of us look the same anyway.
White people especially. Zombies, man.
And possible shoplifters too.
The skeevy!

If your son has a white girlfriend, you probably can't recognize her unless she's with him. And even then you have doubts.
She looks so "different".

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.

No comments:

Search This Blog


Sometimes, out of the corner of your ear, you hear something that tingles. While we were eating she mentioned that she admired crows because...