An Outrageously Stupid Thing I'm Kinda Glad I Did

So last Friday, I went to Carpool to meet up with a friend, whose friend was guest bartending. Got there after they'd left, but that's a secondary issue. There were two staffers at the door carding people. I get out my wallet and go to pull out my driver's license when one of the bouncers waves me in, so I go in.

I'm inside looking around for someone I know, when it hits me: my license wasn't in it's usual slot. So I start looking through my wallet.

I don't have my license.

I spend the next two hours searching the car, driving around, retracing my steps. The sushi restaurant. The gym. The locker room. The other locker room where I showered because they were cleaning the first one. The office. Called Corey; maybe I left it in his car, or it was jolted out of my pocket during a particularly hard stop (clutching at straws here). No luck. Maybe some miscreant stole my license out of my wallet when I was in the shower (it's the one time I hadn't locked my locker because no one was left). Oh no, what if it's the cleaning staff, do I want to start making accusations?

Finally gave up and went to the Virginia DMV Web site to find out about getting a replacement license. Start getting anxious because they've put in new anti-fraud measures that require things like a passport (check) and original birth certificate (uh-oh). Decide to worry about it in the morning.

Driving home, start thinking about any other places I used my wallet (lots) or used my license (fewer). Let's see, work backwards: Thursday, didn't go out to DC. Wednesday was at Galaxy Hut, no, they know me. Tuesday at Vienna Inn -- that was with kickball folks, so didn't get carded. Monday...I don't think I went out Monday. Sunday...went tubing, didn't need my licen...wait a second. I went for a bike ride after getting back, and I usually pull my license out and stick it in my pocket so they can identify my body if I pull a wilson and get hit by a truck...nah, I couldn't...didn't I?

I find my shorts (swimsuit, actually) in the "to be washed" pile, and, yep, there's a plastic rectangle in the back pocket. Also eight soggy dollars in front. I guess I was distracted after my ride because of some guy in a van who was yelling something unintelligible at me through a bullhorn as he drove past me on my bike (and whom I saw 2 minutes later in the parking lot of my complex, hah).

So, it turns out that I've been going around for 5 days without proper ID. Good thing I didn't go into DC on Thursday with Paulie...it would have been a long, shameful trip back.