Evidence that people have started demanding evidence
I mean, do I look particularly suspicious? Judging by recent events which I'll tell you about, I must do.
Here's a picture of me, to remind you.
Oh, sorry. Wrong picture.
Here I am.
See? Butter wouldn't melt!
A friend says she always judges people on the basis of 'Would I let them look after my cat?' It's surprisingly reliable. Try it.
You'd let me look after yours, wouldn't you?
I know for sure that the headteacher of my grandson's primary school wouldn't. Even though I've waited in the school playground once a week for two years now, he didn't recognise me last Thursday when I arrived to pick up Elijah from his after-school club.
I was under suspicion.
I'll say here that this headteacher is a lovely man and I can't blame him for making sure I was the real deal if he didn't recognise me. I'd much rather know that he checked people out than let any Tom, Dick or Hattie in to collect children.
But I couldn't help being surprised when he approached and asked for my ID, subtlely blocking my way to the door until I found something with my photograph on it. I felt my cheeks pinking up and I panicked as I foraged for it in my handbag.
Would he check the 2014 picture against my 2019 face and accuse me of brazenly impersonating my daughter?
Then I remembered that my glasses have photochromic lenses which would have been black as I walked into the school out of the sunshine. The photograph would look totally different. Would he think I was deliberately disguising my identity? Would he make me take them off? Tug at my hair in case it was a wig? Feel my chin for stubble in case I was really a man? Call for a receptionist to instigate a full body search?
When did I last shave my legs? Arrggh!
Suddenly, I felt guilty of every recent crime that may have been perpetrated on the school premises. If he demanded it of me, I knew I would admit to climbing on the nursery roof at midnight in an attempt to gain entrance, and filching pound coins from the charity box on Open Day, and stealing Rebecca's pencil case at break time.
Tentatively, I passed over my ID. He did look at it quite carefully as though he recognised me from various Wanted posters around town, but in the end he said, 'That's fine. I'm sorry for checking. I don't remember everybody.' And he let me past.
I was going to tell you, too, about how I was stopped at the airport on my way to Spain and interrogated about my suitcase contents, but I'll save that until next time.
I'm sure you, my followers, can only take so many True Crime stories at once.
Here's a picture of me, to remind you.
Oh, sorry. Wrong picture.
Here I am.
See? Butter wouldn't melt!
A friend says she always judges people on the basis of 'Would I let them look after my cat?' It's surprisingly reliable. Try it.
You'd let me look after yours, wouldn't you?
I know for sure that the headteacher of my grandson's primary school wouldn't. Even though I've waited in the school playground once a week for two years now, he didn't recognise me last Thursday when I arrived to pick up Elijah from his after-school club.
I was under suspicion.
I'll say here that this headteacher is a lovely man and I can't blame him for making sure I was the real deal if he didn't recognise me. I'd much rather know that he checked people out than let any Tom, Dick or Hattie in to collect children.
But I couldn't help being surprised when he approached and asked for my ID, subtlely blocking my way to the door until I found something with my photograph on it. I felt my cheeks pinking up and I panicked as I foraged for it in my handbag.
Would he check the 2014 picture against my 2019 face and accuse me of brazenly impersonating my daughter?
Then I remembered that my glasses have photochromic lenses which would have been black as I walked into the school out of the sunshine. The photograph would look totally different. Would he think I was deliberately disguising my identity? Would he make me take them off? Tug at my hair in case it was a wig? Feel my chin for stubble in case I was really a man? Call for a receptionist to instigate a full body search?
When did I last shave my legs? Arrggh!
Suddenly, I felt guilty of every recent crime that may have been perpetrated on the school premises. If he demanded it of me, I knew I would admit to climbing on the nursery roof at midnight in an attempt to gain entrance, and filching pound coins from the charity box on Open Day, and stealing Rebecca's pencil case at break time.
Tentatively, I passed over my ID. He did look at it quite carefully as though he recognised me from various Wanted posters around town, but in the end he said, 'That's fine. I'm sorry for checking. I don't remember everybody.' And he let me past.
I was going to tell you, too, about how I was stopped at the airport on my way to Spain and interrogated about my suitcase contents, but I'll save that until next time.
I'm sure you, my followers, can only take so many True Crime stories at once.
No matter how innocent we are, and no matter how much we KNOW that, it's still rather unsettling, even humiliating, to be checked out! I'm glad you passed muster. I'm torn about saying this, but I'm going to say it anyway: if someone checked my post-menopausal chin for whiskers, some days I wouldn't pass! There, perhaps my self-inflicted humiliation will make you feel better :)
ReplyDeleteIt's the same when you leave a shop and there's a beep as you pass through the security barriers. You know you paid for everything but still truly believe you have stolen a TV and a silk scarf.
Deleteha ha! yes :)
DeleteVery amusing. I've often thought you were a bit dodgy you know. My favorite part was the bit about you climbing on the nursery roof. Don't know why but it really made me laugh. I love your description of the photocromatic lenses too. More please. Give us the airport story! Great post.
ReplyDeleteYou mean, you've always KNOWN I was a bit dodgy ....
DeleteSeems to me the most logical method would be to ask the child if he/she knows this person.
ReplyDeleteHm ... I'm not even sure they'd do that these days. There's always the possibility it's a relative with a restraining order or something.
DeleteThe playschool I worked at did the whole ID thing and letters of authorisation. Worked beautifully except when one estranged father just broke a window and climbed in anyway….
ReplyDeleteThat's the problem! If people are really determined .... and he sounds as though he was pretty determined ...
DeleteHis concern is to be commended. Grannies are a well-known terrorist-breed.
ReplyDeleteI feel guilty every time I walk through security at airports and probably shouldn't shout, 'Yay!' each time I get through unsearched.
Ha ha - no, probably not! That made me laugh!
DeleteAt my grandson's school the children all have a " password". I was picking him up one day last year and a stand in teacher didn't know me. Can you tell me his password says she. It's rose or lily , as I couldn't remember which one he was.(his sister was the other one). Off she goes to check and then says no it isn't either of those! It took some time to get in touch with my son, who luckily was able to get in touch with the ex and discover that the little fella was now a daffodil! I was at the point of saying OK....just keep him, at least he won't be late in the morning!!
ReplyDeleteBrilliant story! Thanks so much for reading and commenting :) You made me smile.
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