There were more problems with changing my identity every day than forgetting my name. After spending the night half naked in the woods I made it a point to remember the name I was using. But even that was not a solution to every problem. There was also the issue of where I was from. I made it a point to use a state driver's license several states away from where I was staying. For example, if I was in Georgia I might use an Ohio driver's license, or a Georgia license when in Ohio. I figured it would be safer this way. For one thing I didn't want to risk having someone think my Ohio license was slightly different from what they were used to and have them pull out their own license and compare them. Nor did I want them saying, "Warren. My sister lives in Warren..." You get the idea. But this didn't always work out.
One time I had checked into a hotel late at night when I was tired, which is not smart because I don't think real fast when I'm tired. Before going in I set my wallet up with the ID I would use that day and memorized the name. Brad Outlaw. Because I pay in cash I always plop my driver's license on the counter before being asked, even though not everyone asked for it. The clerk was a woman a few years younger than I. She took one look at the license then looked back at me and said, "Do I know you?" I was thinking she'd seen my face on America's Most Wanted so I was on guard for that, but that wasn't it at all.
Then in a parody you can't make up she says, "You don't look like an Outlaw." Now I know she's made me for the fugitive I am. It is one of those rare occasions when I am left speechless. My car is sitting in the drive and she has seen it, so if I jump in it and drive away the police will be hot on me with a vehicle description, which is always a rough way to go. Rather than run I decide to try to talk my way out of it.
"I'm not whoever you think I am," I said lamely. She held up my driver's license like it was Government Exhibit "A". You're not an Outlaw, are you?" I looked at her blankly. I really didn't know where this was going so I didn't say anything. "Look, I'm not trying to be nosy, but I grew up down the road from the Outlaw's in (whatever town was on my driver's licenses) and I knew the whole family. I don't remember a Brad."
Quick as a snake I snatched my fake driver's license from her fingers and as snarky as I could manage said, "For someone not trying to be nosy you're being damn nosy. It's none of your business but I'm not from (whatever the town was called), we only moved there recently." I turned and walked out the door saying something about finding a friendlier motel. I was tired before that fiasco, so it was a long night driving the back roads.
Another time I again picked a place where the young clerk was from the same state as my driver's license and he made a comment about my license not having a hologram like his. I said it was because my license was older than his. I checked in but never went to my room. Another long night without sleep. The point here is that even though I had good ID's, it didn't always work out.
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A Life Wasted
Non-FictionWATTY 2016 WINNER of the HQ Love Award! With national focus on Islamic terrorism, few noticed when "Domestic Terrorist" Clayton Waagner was added to the FBI's Ten Most Wanted List on September 21, 2001. How did a software developer become the 467th...