Identity Crisis
The trouble with moving house is that you have to tell so many people about your new address. The upside, mind you, is that it's a chance to jettison those people with whom you really want to lose contact. You know, that couple you met on holiday last year, the very persistent Jehovah's Witness and Big Tam the money-lender.
The law dictates that you have to let all sorts of agencies know about your whereabouts. The , for example, demand that your address is accurate on your driving licence. Oh, and if you send them your old paper licence they wont replace it. Instead you must apply for one of those new cards with your photograph on it. This may sound very like a compulsory I.D. card scheme, but don't be silly. Those haven't been introduced yet. This is a democracy after all.
So, anyway, all this meant that myself and Mrs Z had to troop off to one of those coin-operated photo-booths in the supermarket. We also had to study the about acceptable photographs. Just as with passport photos, you're not allowed to wear a hat, sunglasses, false moustache or even a smile. It's sad to think that a cheesy grin would make us unrecognisable to immigration officials or traffic cops. Apparently we only look like ourselves when we're miserable. If we had a smiley face in our passport they'd have to tickle us to confirm our identity. The security staff at airports might have to be stand-up comedians. No, let's not go there.
Still, the trip to the photo-booth brought back some memories. Remember those carefree teenage years where you'd go into town with your mates, spend a fortune on a pic 'n' mix from Woolies and then see how many of you could cram into the photo-booth? And then you'd wait outside the booth for ages until your little strip of pictures came sliding down the dispensing chute. Even then you had to wait for the fan to dry the photographs before you could pick them up. And all the while you were trying to sheild them from the gaze of passers-by.
It's all changed now, of course. It's all digital. Quick as aflash. You even get the chance to retake your photograph again and again until your happy with the result (I was in there for three days). You can also add a few hilarious effects, such as a mohican hairstyle.
I considered this for a moment but then imagined the impact that might have on those poor officials at the DVLA.
They might just snap.
