I'm referring to the mistreatment by the boys in black cowboy hats at the "8 Second Saloon" (Rockville Road and Lynhurst Drive) where my 27 year-old college educated girlfriend Valerie Hurd and I - with tickets in hand - were excluded from the Todd's show because, well, she's black and didn't have proper ID, don't you know.
Valerie misplaced her driver's license and brought what she had to prove her age, including a note from the Bureau of Motor Vehicles, which didn't quite satisfy the boys with blind authority at the door.
'Course it didn't matter much that we were standing right next to a sign that said "We may require two pieces of photo ID if under 26." (Again, Valerie is 27) And it didn't matter that one of the ticket takers looked like he was 15. No one carded him.
To add insult to injury, the guy at the door who was frisking patrons down for contraband told us two contradictory stories. First, he shouted that the state code required everyone in the place to have a state ID or license. Then he stold us that he had discretion to admit Valerie if he thought she was 26 or older. "But I'm 27," he screamed, "and she ain't no 27." We offered to give affidavits or find witnesses inside, but to no avail.
But there's more irony. Valerie went to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles before the concert to acquire a new driver's license, but the bureau declined to give her one because she didn't have enough other ID to prove who she was. The ladies there said that this was for her own protection. They then gave her a little note, officially stamped, that said she had lost her license, which the boys without teeth at the bar, I guess, couldn't read.
After we had been yelled at long enough, kind of like we were in boot camp, the manager came out to push us off the place. We pointed out that the saloon was not following its own posted rules, and that nothing anywhere stated that we had to be 21 (let alone carry an ID) to see the show. By the end, I was accusing them of wearing swastika underwear and having their spurs crossed.
We sulked to ourselves all the way home, never believing that berserk megalomaniacs in black paramilitary-cowboy duds could deprive us of an evening with our favorite musical artist. We felt our contractual rights, as well as maybe our civil rights, had been violated. We had bought tickets to a concert, not a saloon. Our expectations were shattered by pure arbitrariness, and bad judgment to boot, by people who were better equipped to herd cattle than to reasonably deal with our bureaucratized human condition.
But all was not lost this year. About a month ago Valerie and I saw Todd, Kasim and Trey in Columbus Ohio. She didn't have her ID then either, but the bouncers at Ludlow's Bar showed more respect to us and took her on her word.
And oh, did I mention that Valerie is the Libertarian Party candidate for county Surveyor here in Indianaopolis?