Can I See Your ID, Please?

I was standing in the casino this week, by a door that led outside and is used as one of the main entrances to the building. I was there with the purpose of assisting guests and to make sure that everyone coming in the door knows where they are going and are the appropriate legal age to be in a casino.

At the beginning of my time there with my trainer, an elderly woman and a young woman came in together, the younger of the two holding the door open for the other. My trainer looked at me as they both cleared the first set of doors and said, “This will be good practice for you, see if we can offer her a hand-stamp,” meaning that her ID had been inspected by an officer and she was given a stamp on the back of her hand as proof.

I walked up to them as they cleared the second set of doors and the younger of the two had already pulled out her wallet to show me her ID. I said, “Oh, you have done this before, have you?” The young lady smiled at me and said, “Yeah, I get carded everywhere I go.” 

I checked the ID and as I was stamping the young ladie’s hand, the older of the two stepped up to me and said, “Young man, do you know that TODAY is my 80th birthday and my Granddaughter here, wanted to know where I wanted to go to celebrate.” She gestured to the young lady. “So, since she is 22-years-old, I said that we should come here where all the 22 year-olds hang out. So it is just her and I, out on a girl’s-day-out.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes with a smile that lit up the room.

I looked at her and sheepishly asked, “Can I give you a birthday gift?”

“Yes, I would love that!” came the response.

I straightened my shoulders, stood a little taller, looked this very proud Grandmother straight in the eye, paused, and asked, “Ma’am, can I see your ID please?” She looked at me and then her hands, rubbed her face, paused a moment as if she was doing a self-awareness check and slowly pulled out her wallet, never breaking eye contact with me.  She handed me the small piece of plastic, to which I scrutinized like I had been trained. Then, as I handed it back, pulled out my red stamp and said, “Right hand please.” Slowly the elderly hand came out and on it I placed the stamp. She looked at it and then looked at me and I said, “There, now you look like every other 22-year-old here. Now behave yourself in there.” I stepped in closer and whispered, “Happy Birthday” and handed the ID back.

I think if she could have, that little-old-lady would have kissed me. She grabbed her Granddaughter by the arm and away they disappeared into the casino. She even looked back and waved. I know because I watched.

A small chuckle came from behind as my trainer said, “You’re gonna fit in well here.”

Now, take this and Go Win Your Day!