I like to think that I’m generally the type of girl that has her shit together. I go to class (usually), I make it back home (someone’s home) even after the drunkest of nights, and I have yet to be arrested. However, I can be a little scatter-brained and this has, at times, been known to get me into trouble. This was one of those times.
I had just spent an entire weekend visiting my long distance boyfriend at his college half way across the country. It was a weekend filled with sex, booze, and the desire to show everyone how much harder we go at my own college. By the time I had to hop on a flight to go back to school after my mini-vacation I had a hangover that seemed like it would last forever. I wasn’t totally convinced that I wasn’t going to die from some kind of internal bleeding to my brain. That in combination with the sadness of leaving my boyfriend behind left me even more scatter-brained and delirious than usual.
Fast forward to standing in line for security at the airport. I was the only one in line at the dinky little airport so I pull my wallet out immediately and hand the I.D. sitting in the center pocket to the TSA woman. As I’m standing there waiting for her to let me through I see her staring at my horizontal I.D. … but I was eighteen and 100 percent positive that I had a vertical I.D. and that I was not from Pennsylvania.
I suddenly remember that I had put my real I.D. in the back of my wallet to hide it in case any bouncers were looking when I was fishing out my fake and put my fake I.D. in the front. I realized quickly that TSA would probably not fall for the same thing that bouncers do and I probably couldn’t just cry to make it go away. So instead I did the only logical thing I could think of — I ripped the I.D. out of her hand and tried to come up with some explanation.
“I’m so sorry that was my sister’s I.D., I just realized I have her wallet and she must have left it in here when she let me borrow it,” I said with my most adorable, innocent smile plastered on my face and handed her my real I.D. Clearly I had not grabbed it back in time for her not to have read my fake because, sounding annoyed, she responded, “You and your sister have the same name?” I muttered “yup,” like it was just a casual thing that my imaginary sister and I have the same name.
Her eyes narrowed and I knew she didn’t believe me for a second but by some miracle, she just let me through. Even as I was getting on the plane I still was just waiting to be arrested and felt even more like I was going to vom. Luckily, none of the above happened.
I like to think that this woman remembers what it was like to be in college and didn’t want to get me in trouble but it’s far more likely that I just wasn’t worth the paperwork she would have to fill out if she did anything about the situation. However, had this gone any different I could have been in a lot of trouble, and I don’t think I look good in orange or would do well in a federal prison.
Life lesson: it’s probably more important to keep your fake away from TSA than it is to keep your real I.D. from bouncers..
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