The Fake ID and the Smart Bouncer | Eastern North Carolina Now

Thank the lord for a lenient door man.

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This add was in the College Paper
    Thank the Lord for a lenient bouncer.

    One of my friends in High School was Clint. If fact I had known Clint since I was a kid. Our mothers were raised together at the Masonic Home in Macon, Georgia and had kept in contact throughout their life.

Clint was born on July 6, 1944 and graduated from Clarkston High in 1962. He joined the Navy shortly after graduation. He turned 21, the legal drinking age in Georgia at the time, in 1965. On one of his leaves, we decided to go to a bar in Atlanta that featured folk singers and local musicians. Since I was born in July 1945 and was still under age, I had the bright idea of using Clint's driving license as an ID to get into the bar.

    I attended Georgia State College and worked in the library where they had the latest technology in Xerox equipment. Georgia Driving licenses at that time did not have a picture and printed on colored paper. I think the color was blue. I made a copy of his driving license on white paper stock and doctored the name with a manual typewriter to read Robert but with his birthday. I then made a copy on blue paper stock. It was not nearly as hard as it seems thanks to multiple typewriters of both pica and elite in the library.

The Barrel was stolen often
    Equipped with my new ID Clint and I went to the Bar. It was Called "The Bottom of the Barrel" on Baltimore Place between Spring Street and West Peachtree. The bar was located in the lower section of the buildings, which at the time I think were apartments.

    Our plan was to let Clint go in first and I would wait for about fifteen minutes and then enter.

    All went well when Clint entered and the bouncer checked his ID and allowed him to enter. Of course, I was sure that in the dark of the bar, I could easily pass the fake ID on the bouncer.

    When I got to the door, I waited until there were several people in line and got in line. I presented the ID to the Bouncer. He looked at it for a minute then looked at me and casually said, "Your twin brother just came in and he is sitting at that table over there."

    How could he tell we weren't twins?. I probably should have used a different last name. With a straight face, he pointed to Clint and allowed me to enter.

As best as I remember, I did not order any beer that night. (Are you kidding me, I drank like a fish).
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