Ink-dentity Crisis

Attempting to pay at the local small town post office with my debit card, around 2005.

Me: *Handing over my debit card.* “Here you go.”

Clerk: *Examining the back.* “I can’t take this. It isn’t signed.”

Me: “Actually, it says ‘Ask for Photo ID.’ I wrote that so people would actually verify my identity instead of just glancing at a signature. Here is my Driver’s License.”

Clerk: *Doesn’t even look at the ID.* “Post office policy is that the card must be signed. I can’t process the transaction unless there is a signature on that strip.”

Me: “You’re telling me that a scribbled name is more secure than this state-issued photo ID?”

Clerk: “Policy is policy. No signature, no service.”

Me: “Fine.”

I lick my thumb, wipe the ‘Ask for ID’ text off the grey strip, and sign my name in front of her with a flourish. I hand it back.

Clerk: *Gives the card a half-second glance.* “Thank you. Much better.”

She processes the payment, while I stare with narrowed eyes. As soon as the receipt prints, I walk five feet over to the next empty counter. I lick my thumb again, scrub the fresh ink off the strip, and carefully rewrite ‘ASK FOR PHOTO ID’ while the clerk watches me in total silence.

I wish I had said something clever like “Have a secure day”, but I just walked out… and always had cash for future visits.