When I was younger, I was a wild child. I loved adventure and was afraid of nothing and no one. At the age of 18, I decided that it was time I experienced a more “adult way of life.” I knew someone who had access to her sister’s birth certificate and it was with this birth certificate that I used to get my first fake ID. This ID was near perfection. It was an actual state identification card with my picture and signature. With this card, my friends and I frequented the bars and night clubs for a couple of fun-filled years. The problem, however, was that some of these establishments required a second form of identification. So what did I do next? What any other wild child would do.
I went and got a second fake ID to back up my first fake ID.
My fun-filled days continued until one fateful day at college. My friends and I were at a local night club near campus. I used my golden, near perfect fake ID to get in. THIS time, however, my luck had run out. The rent-a-cop at the door looked at me, took me aside and confiscated my golden, near perfect fake ID. With a long line of people behind me waiting to get into the nightclub, you would have thought that I would have been embarrassed and maybe shed a few tears. No, just the opposite. I looked at the rent-a-cop and broke out laughing. In fact, I laughed so hard, I finally did shed some tears. Yes, I was an incorrigible young woman.
At my court hearing, I came face to face with the judge who was going to determine my fate for breaking the law. He went on and on about how I needed to get onto the right track and walk away from this corrupt lifestyle, which would only lead me down a life of ruin, etc. As he talked, for the first time in a long time, I was truly sorry for my actions and couldn’t lift my eyes from the floor.
Finally, the judge got to the sentencing. He gave me a choice of either a $150 fine or three-days in jail. I can only imagine how moronic I must have looked to the judge with my eyes huge and my jaw dropped to the floor. $150?? (Remember, this was 20 years ago and I was a poor college student at the time). Or three-days in jail? I’ve never even seen a real cell, other than what I saw on television or in the movies. And from the food they usually serve to the prisoners, there’s no way I would survive.
Luckily for me, someone tipped me off about a third, unspoken option: doing community service. I pleaded with the judge if I could possibly do community service. The judge looked at me with humor in his eyes, trying hard not to smile. Yes, he said. I could.
What I didn’t realize at that time was how my life would change from that day forward…