mistaken identity
he hands me
a senior citizen bus pass
with a blurry photo on it
and says, this isn’t me
sure enough it’s not
it’s another old white guy
but it’s hard to tell the difference
if you aren’t really looking
he says, you gave me back the wrong i.d.
we take i.d. here
in exchange for newspapers
and there’s no other i.d. in the box
i don’t have your i.d., i tell him
well, who does? he says
most likely the other guy, i say
he looks around the room
like he’s trying to spot a terrorist
where is he? he asks
probably on the bus, i say
what am i gonna do? he asks
use his i.d. and take the bus too
he says, he could be doing anything with my i.d.
creating a fake credit card
ordering plane tickets
joining facebook
he’s probably on the bus, i say
can you call him? he asks
so i look up the number and dial
no luck
old white men and me
we’re the last people on the planet
without cell phones
and i can’t wait until i get my free bus pass
he hands me the i.d. and says
well, i can’t do anything with this
he walks out of the building like a zombie
like someone has stolen his life
and maybe they have
but not five minutes pass
before the other one walks in
like he’s never been in the joint before
he’s holding the controversial senior citizen bus pass
like a soiled tissue
throwing it on the desk
he points at the blurry picture of the other old codger
like he’s seen a ghost
hands shaking he says
i don’t think that’s me.
i hand him back his correct i.d.
but he stares at it, as if he’s not sure
that’s the right one either
then he walks out of the building
looking from the i.d. to the image of himself
in the glass doors
not really sure of anything
anymore.
1 comment:
We get a bit forgetful in our old age.
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