Wait. What?!?!

Last Saturday I returned almost all the clothes I bought in ‘therapy’ last week. It’s not that I didn’t need them, I just feel so guilty about spending money I always end up returning things.

The saleslady asked for my driver’s license so she could fill out some paperwork. I kept repeating in my head, ‘Remember ID, Remember ID, Remember ID’ because they ALWAYS forget to give it back.

And I did remember my ID …

Three days later when I went to show it after using my debit card and realized it was missing.

Good thing I had cash. Who knew those movie theater guys were such ID Nazi’s?



On Wednesday, I drove all the way to the mall, hiked up to the top floor, and approached the customer service counter,

‘Hi, I called last night. My name’s Rebekah Atk…’

‘Oh yes. I answered the phone,’ she interrupted, ‘I’ll get your card for you. Do you have ID?’

‘It is my ID’ I laughed.

‘Oh geez!’ She laughed back.

‘Do you have any other ID?’ she asked when she returned holding my treasured California License.

‘You mean instead of the picture ID you are holding?’ I asked trying to take out the bite of sarcasm.

‘Yes’ she said flatly.

I dug through my wallet and pulled out my 3 year old college photo ID card that looks noticeably LESS like me than the ID she was holding (I was going through a short hair phase and quickly realized I had WAY too much ‘volume’ – OK, it was frizz but volume sounds better - for short hair).

She stared at my picture for a long time then reluctantly handed my ID over.



And here I thought McDonalds and Burger King were the only businesses kind enough to employ the mentally challenged.