“Okay, sir. Two tickets for Backstreet Boys coming right up. Will that be cash or charge?”

“Just put it on my credit card, Eddie.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll just swipe your card and… and…”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, sir. However, I do need to see some I.D.”

“But I’ve been coming here for years.”

“Yes, sir. But I do need to see some I.D.”

“That’s ridiculous. I come in here almost every week. You’re the only person who waits on me.”

“I’m sorry, sir. New rules.”

“But you sold me my Jimmy Buffett tickets last summer, Eddie. You were also the one who sold me those Bob Dylan tickets last month. And two weeks ago you sold me a pair of BOYZ II MEN tickets.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve sold a lot of tickets during the last twelve months. I really need to see some I.D.”

“Oh, all right. Here’s my driver’s license.”

“Uh, yes. Right. Uh… Do you have any other I.D.?”


“You know, maybe a library card? Something else with your name on it?”

“I just don’t get it, Eddie. I’ve been coming in here almost every week for concert tickets. Don’t you remember? I’d always say, ‘Hi, Eddie. What’s shakin’?’ And you would always answer, ‘Hey, John. What’s up?’ Heck, you sold me my tickets for Elvis Costello. Also Slipknot and Bonnie Raitt. So, what’s the deal?

“I’m sorry, sir, but too many faces, too many tickets. I just can’t keep track of everyone. And I’m still going to need to see some additional form of identification.”

“Oh, all right. Here’s my Sears card. Is that good enough?”

“Almost, sir. Just one more thing. Could you please place your thumb on the inkpad.”

“What? You’re going to fingerprint me? I don’t believe it.”

“Company policy, sir.”

“But you know me, Eddie. You’ve known me for a full year. I’m John.”

“If you say so, sir. But you never can be too careful. Not with identity theft on the rise.”

“Well… All right. There. There’s my credit card, my driver’s license, my Sears card and my thumb print. Is there anything else?”

“Well, there is one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you have any references, Senator Kerry?”