Achtung! Papers, Bitte!

So here's another post-rhino hazard you might run into.

The last couple of weekends, I've been "down the shore" as we say back home. My friend "Asia" (who is neither asian nor a porn star...that's a funny story for another day) invited me and a bunch of girlfriends down and we ended up at a joint called Seacrets both weekends and another place called Fager's Island on the 4th of July.

Now, being as how I'm from Pennsylvania in a distant suburb of Philadelphia more or less, let's just say that I'm all too familiar with a certain demographic that also migrates down the shore each summer. Sadly, they don't just confine themselves to Seaside Heights. They're liable to show up anywhere along the mid-Atlantic coast en masse in all their tramp-stamped, sculptured facial hair glory since we lack effective border patrol in this country.



Asia has these locals-only passes to get into the clubs without waiting or paying. We passed the Jagerbomb contingent and went to the VIP door and presented passes and ID.

Now, the Rhinoblogger's driver's license is set to expire at the end of the year and it was a seven-year license. This means the photo was taken when I'd just turned 23. I'd just moved to Alexandria after hoboing around Silver Spring, AdMo, Tenleytown, and Fairfax for a few years and decided to make myself official and traded in my PA license.

At the time, I was in this gawdawful relationship--the sort that inspires self-loathing, crippling depression, and a compulsion to listen to too much Morrissey.



I gained a lot of weight because my boyfriend played video games all day (he was unemployed and just cashed checks from daddy), didn't go out, and discouraged me from having friends or an outside life, so why not stuff your face if all you're allowed to do is sit at home and watch television, right? Dark days for your correspondent. As a result, in my driver's license picture, I'm fat. A certified grocery abuser. However, forty pounds down, I'm not all THAT different-looking, plus it was taken at a good angle. The cheeks aren't as chubby, but the smile's the same, and the eyes are the same...of course, the nose is a little different.

Oh, and my hair make me look like I'm auditioning for a blaxploitation film for some reason, so everyone laughs at it when they see it, but still and all, no one's ever thought I was trying to pass off a fake ID in the last six and a half years. Add to this the fact that I'm 29, hurtling towards 30. I have wrinkles and I think I spotted a gray hair the other day. I shouldn't even be carded, but I was asked for a second form of ID! Maybe at 29, I still look better than some of these turbs do at 19, which makes me feel better about the small fortune I've spent on moisturizers, the hours I've spent in torturous yoga positions, and desserts denied. The only other variable is my nose.

The moral of the story is, if you get a nose job, you might want to consider "losing" your driver's license or checking in to see if you can have it retaken or risk feeling like a 16 year old trying to buy a bottle of Boone's with her older sister's license.