When it comes to concert going, there is one big moment of truth for the midlife fan: the ID check. I dread it now as much as I did when I was 20 and a half. “What if they ask me? What if they ask me?”

Only now, I also think, “What if they don’t?”

I’ve had the patronizing: “Why, THAT can’t be your birth year! You look at least 10 years younger!” delivered in the same tone I use when I tell my 93 year old neighbor across the street that I love her new wig. I’ve had the nonsensical: the time a bouncer harassed my friend Andrea and I to show him our IDs, only to have Andrea point at the fine lines around her eyes and say, “Really, dude? CAW! CAW!” I’ve had the futile: the time I tried in vain to attract the bouncer’s attention with my California license as my younger cute blonde friend pulled out a battered passport filled with interesting stamps. Mine might as well have been a Costco membership card.

Just when I think I’ve had every bouncer-patron encounter that’s possible while maintaining a PG rating, there’s a new variation. Last week at St. Vincent/tUnE-yArDs it was the silent raised eyebrow, as in, “Seriously, lady, you’re extending your driver’s license to me? We both know that’s a farce.”

But my favorite ID-check experiences, hands-down, are when I am going to a show with my friend Maria and one of us has secreted baked goods onto our person. I decided to bring it to life for you with this short video, inspired by true events. I call it, “No Gum, No Gun.”

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