I was having a pretty good Sunday. Up early, walked the dog, coffee, off to Sunday School and church.
The cooler fall weather reminded me that it was time to change from my white summer purse to my fall purse. I double-checked to make sure I had everything.
After church, I decided to cook brunch when I got home, but I didn’t have bacon or sausages. I headed up Cornelia Street to my favorite grocery store, which shall remain nameless.
The parking lot was packed with more Canadian and out-of-state auto license plates than New York ones, a financial blessing to local businesses, but not great for parking.
I planned on buying only breakfast meat, so I didn’t get a shopping cart. Naturally, I ended up with my arms full of food items. The “shortest line” wasn’t the express one so I moved down a few checkouts.
After piling my groceries on the conveyor, I searched my purse for my red cardholder that contains my debit card, most of my credit cards, store discount cards and my driver’s license. I thought it strange that I didn’t have it, but I did find my checkbook.
The clerk scanned my key-chain store-discount card and said the total of my order was $15.15. I told her I left my debit card and ID at home, but I’d write a check.
“I need to see your driver’s license,” she said.
I explained to her again that I had been shopping there for more than 20 years, had written checks for the nearly 18 years, had a store discount card and had always used my debit card. It must be in the computer system.
“Do you have another form if ID?” she asked.
I pulled out my birth certificate, random cards to other stores and my passport.