January 3rd, 2005

I keep dreaming that I'm Santa Claus

A group of my friends, myself included, were trying to get into the 8-Ball Saloon. I was dressed as Santa Claus. Apparently, the 8-Ball had become somewhat more discerning establishment--they let beninem in, but then a bouncer pushed his arm across the entryway and asked the rest of us where we thought we were going.

Most of my friends were turned away.

I showed them my driver's license, and they wanted to know if I had any photographic evidence to prove who I am (i.e. not Santa Claus). I did happen to have a stack of snapshots in my pocket, a good 50-100 4" x 6" photos. I started sorting through them, and the pictures were not only not of me, but of people I didn't know--people I had never seen before.

The bouncers were getting annoyed at my inability to produce the required evidence. "Just a sec," I said, "I know there's a picture of me in here somewhere."

stoprockroll gave me a withering glance. "Chris," she said, "If you used iPhoto, all your images would be organized by subject and category and you wouldn't have this problem!"