Wetherspoons twunts
Me and my friend went for a drink at the local Wetherspoons, only to be told that we would need to show our passports for ID purposes. Since we're both in our late twenties, I have greying hair and he's receding, and since the pub was just down the road and not in fucking France, neither of us had our passports with us.

And the place was full of underage chavs ayway.

EDIT: The only times I've been jobsworthy have been when someone has tried to pay with Scottish currency...they rant and rave in their incomprehensible gibberish aboot i' bean leeguh' tindah, while I calmly point out to them that while I have been trained to identify forged English banknotes, I have no way of knowing if they've just run their Bank of Clydesdale tenner off the colour photocopier. Winding up Scottish people is hilarious.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Sat 14 May 2005, 1:02, Reply)