Last night I found out what happens when you drop your ID into a conveyor belt.
Not a lot, actually, it's more anti-climactic than I thought, but does involve a few seconds where you and the cashier freeze and stare at each other helplessly until some nice dude in an apron comes round to open the little drawer under the belt and free the Lost Goods from the Dark Place.
It's kind of freaky, watching your adult drinking life slo-mo over the black rubber like a barrel over Niagara Falls and disappear into the abyss.
It's good she checked it first, or I really would have needed that holiday porter I was buying.
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rockstar RN of the future
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that's what she said.