Another Fine Mess I've Gotten Me Into

Sitting at the train station in Irvine. The woman at the counter
would not sell me a ticket because I don't have ID. When I was
arrested, the cop took my driver's license, so I haven't had an ID for
awhile. You can get a state-issued, "valid" ID card from the DMV, but I haven't gotten around to it.

It hasn't been a problem until now. I don't drink, so I don't get
carded, although I was out with friends one night and they wouldn't
let me into a bar where we were going to get some kind of famous tacos.

I bought the ticket to come up here on-line, printed it out at a
kiosk, and the conductor didn't ask for ID once I was onboard.

I tried to argue with the ticket vending woman. She didn't seem at all phased that I had ridden the train up with no ID. Grasping at straws, I told her I was a
lawyer. I don't know why this seemed like a good idea. Because lawyers
inspire confidence and feelings of trustworthiness in others. Right.

I asked for her supervisor. "I am the supervisor." Of course she is.

I'm not good at this kind of thing. A friend of mine recently talked
his way onto an airplane without valid ID. An airplane! I'm not
silver-tongued. I go straight to bullying, then wheedling. No one
gives in to that.

So I left the station and bought a ticket at the kiosk. We'll see if
they let me on. And not the train, mind you. It's not running
southbound today, so it's a big coach bus. I think the worse thing
that happens is they don't let me on. And then I say fuck it and hire
a limo. That's my plan.