There's a cafe just down the street that serves all your favourite dishes and every hot and cold drink you could imagine. Every day, you walk in and they give you your usual order. By the end of the first month you know all of their names and they all know yours. You're there so often that they give you an account you can deposit into, so you don't have to keep paying for your second and third drinks. The table in the corner by the wall outlet is basically yours.
And then you spend a weekend in the next city over, and while you're there, you get a haircut.
When Tony doesn't recognize you Monday morning, you assume he's joking and laugh it off. "Yeah, those sandwiches are making me put on some pounds. I had to lose a pound of hair to keep up. Can I have my usual? I should have $30 in my account here."
But Tony still doesn't recognize you. Even when you give your name. Even when you recite your regular order. "Look, dude. If this is some attempt to keep my money--"
"No, no, of course not!" says Tony. "We just want to make sure someone else isn't trying to order a drink under our favourite customer's name."
"So you think someone with my exact face decided to put on my clothes, come into your cafe, and pretend to be me so he could get a five-dollar latte?"
"Well, it's theoretically possible, isn't it?"
"Okay. Sure. Thanks for keeping my coffee secure. Now how do I prove I'm me?"
"Well, can you give me your customer ID?"
"No? What's that?"
"It's written on every receipt we give you."
"You mean the receipts you offer me and then throw away when I say 'no, thanks'?"
"Yes, those ones. Do you have your customer ID?"
"Right. You're being very difficult here, Tony. Tell me what I can do."
"We can mail you a new customer ID. Do you still live at 1927 Newcastle Road in Seattle?"
"No. Obviously no. We are in Portland. And how did you even know I lived there?"
"Not important. What's the name of your oldest cousin?"
"Patricia. But how did you--"
"Great, you're in. Do you want your usual again? How was your weekend?"
"It was ... Fine, I suppose. And yes please."
You turn to sit at your usual table, but find that someone else is already there, so instead you collapse into the closest chair you can find and manage to log into work only two minutes late.
At 10:30, you're finally hungry for more than a tiny croissant, so you call out to Tony: "Hey, could I get a sandwich?"
He looks up from his phone and gives you an odd stare. "I think I know who you are, but you're sitting somewhere unusual. Can I just get your customer ID from you?"
"I still don't have it. Just like I didn't have it two hours ago. I don't mean to be rude, but is something wrong with you?"
"No, I'm perfectly fine, thanks for asking. But since you just used a security question two hours ago, I'm going to need you to sort through this box of coffee cups and give me all the medium ones that don't have a lid."
"Okay, this is insane. Can I just pay for my coffee with my credit card?"
"Not while your name is flagged as possible fraud."
Slowly, methodically, you pack your bag and walk out, never to return.
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MicroFiction
Chris Smart
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