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I am in a hotel or restaurant, and I realize I am supposed to be in the office later that day. I run to the nearest bus stop trying to remember which bus is the most direct route to my office. That’s when I also remember I’m not even in the same city as my office.
Shift: I am driving down a highway at top speed. I come into a small town with a strictly enforced speed limit, but it seems like the car is taking forever to slow down. The speed zone is marked by rows of orange construction barriers that channel the road into a single lane. By the time I pass a police officer stationed on the side of the road, I am doing 5 mph over the speed limit. I’m hoping I get an A for effort.
I am directed to a checkpoint of some kind. I remember passing through this town before, and that the checkpoint is routine, regardless of whether you were caught speeding.
The checkpoint is more like an interstate rest area, although there are no other drivers. In fact, the place seems deserted. When I walk into the main reception area, there’s no one on duty, and no one to report to. But they’re obviously expecting me because there’s a binder on the desk that I gather is my driving record. Since no one’s around, I pick up the binder and wander around cluttered hallways to see if anyone is there.
At one point I look in the binder, and realize I may be in trouble. The report is full of copies of articles and photos I’ve posted on Facebook, including a series of Family Circus and Marmaduke cartoons with rewritten captions. I look at the front page of the report, and it describes me as a wanted professional car thief named Stuart Carlaw.
Uh oh.
At the time I discover this, I am standing near some shelves with various janitorial items and junk on them. I put the binder on one of the shelves and head back to the reception area. There’s a cop standing there, and he asks me where I’ve been. I explain I was looking for him. He directs me to a desk and a chair where he will conduct a brief interview. I remember this is SOP.
I wonder if I should be worried, but it occurs to me that I have identity cards, so that should be enough to prove I’m not Stuart Carlaw. Also, since the cop doesn't seem to know who I am in the first place, he may not think I’m Carlaw anyway.
On the other hand, it also dawns on me that I can’t remember where I got the car from, and I’m not sure I can prove I didn’t steal it.
It also occurs to me that I have a potentially bigger problem: why are there copies of my Facebook content in Carlaw’s folder? Maybe they got it from Carlaw’s Facebook page? In which case, what was he doing with it? Is he trying to steal my online identity? And if so, what can I do about it?
And then I woke up.
The wrong man,
This is dF
Shift: I am driving down a highway at top speed. I come into a small town with a strictly enforced speed limit, but it seems like the car is taking forever to slow down. The speed zone is marked by rows of orange construction barriers that channel the road into a single lane. By the time I pass a police officer stationed on the side of the road, I am doing 5 mph over the speed limit. I’m hoping I get an A for effort.
I am directed to a checkpoint of some kind. I remember passing through this town before, and that the checkpoint is routine, regardless of whether you were caught speeding.
The checkpoint is more like an interstate rest area, although there are no other drivers. In fact, the place seems deserted. When I walk into the main reception area, there’s no one on duty, and no one to report to. But they’re obviously expecting me because there’s a binder on the desk that I gather is my driving record. Since no one’s around, I pick up the binder and wander around cluttered hallways to see if anyone is there.
At one point I look in the binder, and realize I may be in trouble. The report is full of copies of articles and photos I’ve posted on Facebook, including a series of Family Circus and Marmaduke cartoons with rewritten captions. I look at the front page of the report, and it describes me as a wanted professional car thief named Stuart Carlaw.
Uh oh.
At the time I discover this, I am standing near some shelves with various janitorial items and junk on them. I put the binder on one of the shelves and head back to the reception area. There’s a cop standing there, and he asks me where I’ve been. I explain I was looking for him. He directs me to a desk and a chair where he will conduct a brief interview. I remember this is SOP.
I wonder if I should be worried, but it occurs to me that I have identity cards, so that should be enough to prove I’m not Stuart Carlaw. Also, since the cop doesn't seem to know who I am in the first place, he may not think I’m Carlaw anyway.
On the other hand, it also dawns on me that I can’t remember where I got the car from, and I’m not sure I can prove I didn’t steal it.
It also occurs to me that I have a potentially bigger problem: why are there copies of my Facebook content in Carlaw’s folder? Maybe they got it from Carlaw’s Facebook page? In which case, what was he doing with it? Is he trying to steal my online identity? And if so, what can I do about it?
And then I woke up.
The wrong man,
This is dF
