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Hey kids, we know how frustrating it is to be a minor. That’s why we at the Commentator have taken it upon ourselves to provide you with these do-it-yourself fake IDs. All you need is a pair of scissors, a picture of yourself, a stick of glue, and a decent laminator. Don’t waste your money on that guy down the hall at the dorms; those cheap plastic photocopies won’t get you into a Chucky Cheese. What we offer is an entirely safe alternative to a shady alley way deal. But be warned: Don’t let your enthusiasm for that first beer run in Dairy-Mart over take common sense. These IDs are 100% fail proof— assuming you follow the simple instructions we have provided along side them. So read on, and don’t forget to hook us with an Old E sometime.
Fake ID# 1
“THE SECRET AGENT ID”
Step 1: This ID is all about attitude. If you walk in the store with full confidence in your identity as a secret agent of the US Government, you’re money. If you never really believe that this hokey looking ID will ever get you any booze, than your mission was doomed to fail from the start.
Step 2: Walk right buy the little red basket and head right to the industrial size shopping cart. Load up with as much alcohol as you can. You’re on a mission from the government; this is no half-ass operation. Remember: National Security is at stake here. Don’t return to the checkout counter until you have at least $50+ dollars worth of booze.
Step 3: When the clerk asks to see your ID, calmly reach in your wallet and remove it as professionally as possible. Don’t make eye contact. This man or women is a civilian. What right do they have to question your age?
Step 4: This is the most important step. There’s no way in hell the clerk is going to buy into our little trick without a little smooth talking on your part. Remember to act sheik, professional and above all else aloof. Your physical form may be standing in a Safeway checkout line, but your brain is already processing tomorrow’s Special Ops invasion of a Columbian coke cartel. The exchange between you and the clerk should go something like this:
Clerk: What the fuck is this? Is this some kind of fucking joke? Am I on camera here? Is this Jackass? Cause if it’s not, you need to get the hell out of here.
You: Pardon Sir?
Clerk: You heard me kid, get out or I’m calling the cops. Hey Jeff, we got a put back on counter 5. Jesus, they don’t pay me enough to deal with this shit.
You: Sir, I’m in a bit of a rush here. How much is this going to be?
Clerk: Hey, this isn’t a joke. I’ll call the cops right now kid. I’m dead serious.
You: Look, we haven’t got much time here. Sir, this is a matter of national security. I’m going to have to go ahead and just take this alcohol with me. I’m out of cash anyway. You’ll receive some paperwork to cover this whole thing in a few days. Now if you could just have this fellow over here.... Jeff wasn’t it? Yes, Jeff. If you could just have Jeff bag all this up.
Clerk: Alright kid, you asked for it. Jeff, get Kurt out here. Tell him we’ve got a situation up front.
You. Fine sir; put your own selfish motives ahead of your county. I’ve seen it all before. I’ll just be leaving...
Clerk: HANDS OFF THE BEER!
You: SIR, for the last time, our nation is currently under a serious biological attack from an unknown terrorist faction. I don’t mean to cause a panic, but all of this alcohol could be contaminated with a deadly untraceable toxin. Even as we speak agents are storming Anheiser-Bush looking for the culprits. Who knows how high up this thing goes? As President Bush has said numerous times, our war on terrorism will be fought on many fronts. Now sir, you stand on the battle line of our war for democracy. You don’t have to bag this beer up, but I’ll be damned if you try and stop me from taking it.
Kurt: Is there a problem here?
Clerk: Not at all sir. The man was just leaving. Jeff, bag up these groceries. Sir, I apologize for the inconvenience. My uncle died in ‘Nam, and I’ll be damned if a bunch of commies are going to take this country over from the inside. I’ll be damned.
Step 6: Victory! Walk out of the store calmly. Never mind the overweight store manager chasing you across the parking lot. Move your feet! Double time, Corporal! Double Time!
Fake ID #2
“So Fake It Must Be Real”
Step 1: Again, the key to this ID is confidence. Your name is Jose Kalawaski.
You come to Oregon from the great state of New Okarcallino, which is, of course, nestled between North and South Dakota. For this ID to be effective, you need to chose a small, out-of-the-way mini-market. Only go there late at night, preferably sometime after 3am and before 5:30. A Texaco or Chevron gas station may be your best bet. You want to be dealing with a cashier who looks like he or she never graduated high school. Again, don’t panic. Confidence, Confidence, Confidence...
Step 2: Put your alcohol on the bottom of your shopping cart. Cover it with an assortment of hanging air fresheners, nudie playing cards, plastic army men, Twinkies, sugar bears, “Barely Legal” magazines, John Grisham audio tapes, six copies of yesterday’s USA TODAY, three lottery tickets, a pint of their best Ben & Jerry’s, and most importantly a canister of Whipped Cream.
Step 3: Hope to God the sheer amount of crap you’ve laid out on the counter confuses the poor cashier and he or she forgets to card you.
Contingency Plan A:
Step 1: If you’ve reached this point, something has gone terribly wrong. Do not panic. Hand the cashier your ID. Look sure of yourself, but somewhat confused by the whole situation.
Step 2: The cashier will hand you back the ID and tell you he cannot sell you the beer. Immediately ask “What the hell you talking about.” Make sure to leave out the “are.”
Step 3: Don’t even bother listening to his or her explanation. Just grab the beer and run. Run as fast as you can.
Contingency Plan B:
Step 1: Obviously you have been tackled in the parking lot by an overly eager cashier. Stay Calm. Return to the store with the cashier and await the police.
Step 2: While waiting for the police, grab the can of Whipped Cream you set on the counter. Offer the cashier a hit of nitrous.
Step 3: As soon as the cashier inhales, make another run for it. If he or she tries to give chase, they’ll fall flat on their ass. You’re home free buddy!
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