Remember back when you were a kid (those of you born pre-1968), before the era of grocery stores accepting every kind of plastic and bagging things in anything but? (I said “but”.)
Remember how everyone, everyone, who wasn’t paying cash had to get their checks cleared at the service counter beforehand? How they had to show I.D. and write out everything except the amount, tear the check out of the checkbook, hand it over to be cleared and stamped and initialed and whatever else before they ever dreamed of getting on (E. of Ohio)/in (everywhere else) line?
Well, I do. And guess what? It was a good system. Because not only did it speed things up, it was a gigantic and singular blow against the creeping solipsism of urban life. As in, Get a clue, Senor Asswipe! You’re not the only pony in this here corral!
I know I’m supposed to be all Buddhist and “thispersonismyteacher” and all, but WT-motherfucking-F!?! How on the ball do you have to be to realize you should (a) have your I.D. hopefully somewhere moderately accessible on your person but (b) definitely not “maybe” in the car parked out on the lot?
Sweet baby jeebus, these holidays cannot be over fast enough for me…