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Identification? Please!



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An e-mail:

You didn’t have enough ID? Try my experience this morning in NH on for size.

I stroll up to the D through G desk (my last name is an F) and I whip out my license.

The lady standing next to the guy with the registration list says “We don’t need that.” “Yeah, but here it is. It’s me!” I say with a smile. “No, we *can’t* see your ID, sir.” She says firmly.

“This is insane,” I mutter, stuffing my last-known-photograph quality picture back into my wallet.

“Why not?”

“You’re stating your name under penalty of perjury, so we don’t need an ID.”

“So – what? – you’re afraid that I’ll say I’m one person and have the ID of somebody else?

Afraid I’ll give you proof that I’m committing perjury?” I look around; policeman behind and to the left tenses up.

“Alright,” I say, deciding to choose my battle elsewhere.

So I give my name and then slightly unsettled gentleman seated at the table says after a gulp “um, now we have a middle name here . . .”

“Dennis. That’s me.”

And I give my address.

Now the table was really low; I’m maybe 5′9″ and the table was low-thigh height.

I could read the name and address of every person on the page.

Seriously. You didn’t have enough ID. I shave my beard and take off my glasses, pick a common last name and I could vote twice today!

Sheesh.

XXXX, who swears under penalty of pain, torture of perjury that he only voted once, and will not vote again today.



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