Well no, I never have. Actually, this story isn’t about a fake ID. I just thought I’d name this what I did because of the source material. You see, I follow this blog called Sauce Box and he recently published a story about a fake ID which is hysterical. I love life’s little moments like that. Go give it a read here.
My part of the title above is the question… “Do you have your ID?”
Back when I was twenty-*coughcoughcough*something I was really into the jam bands. It helped that I was friends with a guy who had one, and I was his “manager.” I’m sure I’ve talked about them once or twice. Those were fun times. Anyway, one night we were all going to go to this legendary music venue in Newport, Kentucky called The Southgate House to see Ohio jam band legends Ekoostick Hookah. This was going to be my first time seeing them and I was stoked. We were all stoned.
I left my car at my buddy’s house, cause we were going to have an after party at his place. He drove us all to the venue.
This was my first, and only time, in The Southgate House. It was awesome. Set up like a really big house, like an old school mansion, you went in through the front door into what would be the central hallway and up to the guy to pay. He was set up next to some stairs that went upstairs. Before getting to him was a room to the left, where a band was set up jamming away, playing to a handful of people. Straight ahead, it seemed, like there was another room with another band playing, and I think there was one upstairs. And then I think there was a way, after paying, that you went downstairs where the bigger venue was and that’s where Ekoostick Hookah was playing.
Again, this was my only time there well over 10 years ago, the layout is kind of a blur, but that’s pretty close.
All of my buddies paid, and then I got up to the guy. He asked for my ID. I went looking for my wallet and I didn’t have it. I had all the cash I needed in my pocket for some reason, but no wallet.
The guy was like, “no ID, no entry.”
And I was all…
He wasn’t being a dick about it, I could see actual sympathy on his face, but he was sticking to the rules. I respect that. He was doing his job.
I even told him I wasn’t there to drink and that he could give me a black X on my hand or something to make sure I don’t drink.
Yeah, cause that was the thing there. You could go in at 18, and you would get a black X on the back of your hand. If you were 21 and could drink, you got that paper bracelet on your wrist. The ones with the sticky on one end that yanks out all of your wrist hairs when you take it off, no matter how perfect you thought you put it on.
I begged for a black X, even though I was, I do believe, 24. I really wasn’t there to drink, cause I didn’t have that kind of money and cause I was already high, so I didn’t need beer. Although I was famous for drinking back then.
He wasn’t having it.
My buddies went into the show and I dejectedly went into that first room to listen to that band for free.
I can’t remember their names but they were a local band to Northern Kentucky, and they were really good. They were playing a few covers, but their original stuff was really good.
I think I had one beer, but that’s all I was going to spend, because I figured I might need that money. I enjoyed myself while listening to that band, but my high started wearing off and I had only been there a half hour, and I knew everybody would be smoking at the Ekoostick Hookah show, but I wasn’t there and I didn’t have any so…
I decided I was going to walk from there to my job, which at the time was right across the river in Downtown Cincinnati. It might have only been a mile or two, but it was at night and I would be walking downtown. Though I honestly wasn’t concerned about that, but I was aware of it.
I texted my buddy and told him what was going on, and told him that when the show let out to let me know and I’d meet him outside of my job.
As I got to the bottom of the steps outside of The Southgate House, I saw a cab across the street dropping people off. I ran over to him and got a ride to my job. It only cost a couple bucks, and I was still doing good.
I used the key pad at the back door of the building to unlock the door, and then I went up to my job. I had my badge on my key chain, so I used it to let me in. That’s when I worked at the radio station.
At that time of night the only person there was the DJ for my station’s sister station. I went into a “break” room where there were a couple computers, and I got online to kill the time.
The thing about radio stations is, they keep them chilly, because the equipment used to run the stations gets hot.
So I sat there in that room, in the cold, with the lights off, on the internet.
And then I woke up. The settings were all too much for me, and I had passed out.
I looked around wildly. It was still dark out, but… I knew.
I looked at my cell phone to discover that it was set on silent (stupid! stupid! stupid!), I had four missed calls, two missed texts, one voice mail, and it was quarter after five in the morning. I was stuck downtown with no ride home.
So I called a cab.
I waited a half hour for him to show up, and then he took me to my buddy’s place. I had $20 left in my pocket, and the ride cost me $19.85. For some reason I remembered that just now. On the way there I thought I might have to get dropped off before getting there and walking the rest of the way. I hoped it wouldn’t be far. Luckily I made it and I explained to the driver I normally tip, but that was all I had.
I got in my car and drove home. Missed the show, missed my ride, missed the after party. All because I forgot my ID.
Remember kids, don’t leave home without it!