War On Error

Here’s one I thought you might get a kick out of. Last Saturday I was flying down the country. Made it to the airport after managing to pack, badly, and remember the important things (clothes, some cash, my medication!) and just as I was bailing over to the desk the cold fear hit me…

No photo ID.

See I don’t drive so I don’t have a driver’s licence on me. I usually bring my passport for such purposes and I could see it clearly, hiding in the bottom of my sock drawer.

Not a snowball’s chance in hell that I could go back and get it in time. Last flight that night. I had to be there. So, with the “never give up no matter what” attitude that’s gotten me into trouble so many times over the years, I scanned my wallet. Aha! Right, let’s give this a whirl I thought.

I told my tale of woe to the lovely girl on the desk and presented the only photo ID I had on me to see how that would play. She had a look at it, then back at me, then back down. She’d have to call her supervisor. She did, and, through some act of divine providence they said yes.

And that, my friends is how I flew on a plane last weekend in this age of insane paranoia and security loopiness with only my Cineworld Unlimited Cinema pass for ID. Thank you Santa.