Proving who you are...

[Mick F]

Reminds me of the old story .....

Officer of the Watch on the bridge: "Engine Room! More steam!"
Engineer in the bowels of the ship: "Get lost!"
Officer: "Engine Room! Don't you know who I am?"
Engineer: "No, but do you know who I am?"
Officer: "No I don't."
Engineer: "Well get lost then!"

[Cunobelin]

For anybody who didn't know, Hutton was and still may be the Headquarters of the Lancashire County Constabulary, once a bigger force than now. It's reminded me of this "Don't you know who I amd story" which is probably just a fairy tale.

On a snap visit to a remote police office where he couldn't get past the obdurate constable at the enquiry counter, it is said that a very senior officer in uniform (one row of oak leaves around the neb) announced "Don''t you know who I am? I am Assistant Chief Constable # of the West Riding Constabulary," receiving the reply "Very good, Sir. And I'm Police Constable # of the Lancashire County Constabulary. Will there be anything else?" (Or words to that effect.)

There was a story about a young singer going on a tour, and taken under the wing of an old trouper who was a household name.
When the y discovered they were not flying business classs, the trouper stated that she was going to get them upgraded for free and went to the desk.

Being unsuccessful the trouper then used the "Do you know who I am?"

The girl looked her straight in the eye and said "Yes" then returned to her paperwork

How do you recover from that?

[Cunobelin]

THe other version was an email from a friend:

For all of you out there who've had to deal with an irate customer, this one
is for you. It's a classic! In tribute to those 'special' customers we all
love!

An award should go to the United Airlines gate agent in Denver for being
smart and funny, and making her point, when confronted with a passenger who
probably deserved to fly as cargo.

A crowded United flight was cancelled. A single agent was re booking a long
line of inconvenienced travellers. Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way
to the desk. He slapped his ticket down on the counter and said,"I HAVE to
be on this flight and it has to be FIRST CLASS."


The agent replied, "I'm sorry sir. I'll be happy to try to help you, but
I've got to help these folks first, and I'm sure we'll be able to work
something out." The passenger was unimpressed. He asked loudly, so that the
passengers behind him could hear, "Do you have any idea who I am?" Without
hesitating, the gate agent smiled and grabbed her public address microphone.
"May I have your attention please?" she began, her voice bellowing
throughout the terminal. "We have a passenger here at the gate WHO DOES NOT
KNOW WHO HE IS. If anyone can help him find his identity, please come to the
gate."

With the folks behind him in line laughing hysterically, the man glared at
the United agent, gritted his teeth and swore, "F*** you!"

Without flinching, she smiled and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to
stand in line for that, too."

[ferrit worrier]

Towards the end of my career in the "plod" I was working in the control room at Manchester Airport (late 80's). Sunday morning was then usualy quiet, one particular morning I was sat watchingthe CCTV, phone rings, "Good morning, police Manchester Airport" "Good morning George here" "George who" "ACC Malcolm George" BIG Sad to say he got me twice with that. I did not fall a third time

Several years ago I was sat behind the reception desk at the place I work, A very polite German gentleman came to the desk, "Can you call me a taxi for the airport" well anything to oblige "Certainly sir, your a taxi for the airport"

[thirdcrank]

The last chief constable of Leeds was James Angus, who was a very pleasant and down-to-earth sort of chap*. He once came up to me when I was a detective constable doing some sort of protection duty on a visit of Pricess Margaret to Leeds Playhouse. He arrived in the royal motorcade then stayed outside in the reception area during some sort of charity fashion show. He came over to me and asked if I was bored. I tried to convey how thoroughly engrossed I was in the job at hand and he replied on the lines "Good for you. I don't know how you manage it. I'm bored stiff."

A story did go around a bit like ferrit worrier's, that he had rung in to the information room "Angus, here." The person answering thought it was Angus # a station PC at Wortley, known in those days for being very quite. "Hello Angus, how's life up at sleepy valley?" "I understand you think this is somebody else, but this is the chief constable." (But no later recriminations.)

In the last decade or so of the force's existence, Leeds City Police Headquarters was at Brotherton House. The chief constable had his personal office on the first floor. There was also a force admin office there which for some silly historic reason was called 'The Chief Constable's Office.' Somebody I knew was sent to collect something administrative and made the obvious mistake. Next news he was on the personal radio "I'm in with the chief constable now, and he's no idea what I've come for....."

And somebody talks about 100% detections.

* He also bore an uncanny resemblance to Patrick Cargill who was starring in Father Dear Father, around the same time.

[kwackers]

This is how us geeks do it:
Some years ago I figured out how to telnet into mail servers and send mail that appeared to come from anyone I could think of.

I had weeks of fun, sending mail from god@universe.org, including one to the entire marketing department which said "Hi guys, God here. I apologise for making you guys f* ups, if I could do a recall I would. Yours God."

Then there was a guy who was a bit of an ar5e who had an altercation with the girl in the post room and made her cry, I sent him a mail from the head honcho which read "Sean, regarding the incident in the post room this morning. Come to my office at 5:30. P.S Do not be late."
That was sent at 10am, I've never seen a guy spend an entire day fidgeting like mad and looking so stressed. Never did figure out what happened when he went up there...

Eventually the head honcho came up to me in the pub and said "I can't prove anything, but I think if I tell you I'd like it to stop then perhaps it might".
Spoilsport. I blame marketing, you'd think they'd see the funny side of all the mails they'd received from God and various other people...

[Mick F]

Is that really God's email address? Do you have Santa's as well?

If I ask them both nicely, I could be onto a winner.
(and I could put a good word in for a few of us too.)

[beachcomber]

During the late 70s The Two Ronnies had a sketch called The Phantom Raspberry Blower of Old London Town.
I was serving at an army unit in North Yorks at the time. It became a habit of ringing phone extensions around the squadron and when a mate answered, a loud raspberry would be blown and the receiver put down.
Taking this a stage further, having rung most other extensions, I rang the Sqn admin officer. A Major of senior service who was seeing his time out prior to retirement.
I blew him a spectacular blast." Who is that?" "Do you know who this is?" "Identify yourself man!" My reply. " Do you know who this is?" "NO" Another large raspberry followed.

The next day an instruction appeared on part two orders. The childish practise of using squadron telecomunication equipment for the purpose of blowing raspberrys will cease forthwith.
Que the entire phone network being engaged for the next couple of days by raspberry blowing idiots.
The Russians didn't know what they were up against.

[thirdcrank]

I've now received more correspondence about jury service and when I go I must prove my ID. Fair enough, but as the only photo ID I hold is my bus pass, the alternatives offered seem to be in chocolate teapot territory if they are intended to stop me sending a ringer. The jury summons was addressed to me based on info in the voting register and that shows that I'm both listed as living here and I have sufficient links with the address to get the post. Three utility bills would not add to that, although they would show my wife likes to keep the heat turned up . Multiple bank or credit card statements would merely confirm that she also likes to spend money, although I am uneasy about giving all my financial details with a copy of my signature to a stranger. The accompanying plastic is presumably what they mean by 'proof of signature' but I could get new ones to be signed with my name by a ringer just by reporting the present ones as lost.

I am who I claim to be. I can only 'prove' my ID by reputation - getting others who have known me for a long time to say it's me. What we have is a bureaucratic nuisance which would be no bar to somebody who didn't want to go sending somebody else and that would include somebody under duress through jury nobbling.

[Mick F]

No passport?

Mrs Mick F did Jury Service six or seven years ago, and she can't remember exactly what she took for ID. She thinks it was Passport and perhaps Birth Certificate or Driving Licence.

[thirdcrank]

A passport is now OK on its own, but the last I had was a visitor's passport in 1985 ish. I still have an old driving licence so that is no good.

In normal ID checks, you need to prove who you are and where you live. It seems to me that turning up with the jury summons in my hand (it's computer-produced from the electoral roll) proves I live where they think. Anybody who was going to send a ringer would need those things anyway. That takes us to proving I am the person named. As I posted, the only thing I have with a picture on is my bus pass. In my case this is quite strong ID, since as well as the rather weak ID checks formally made when I applied for it, the lady in our post office knows me well enough to recognise me. As I've now had it aseveral years, that makes it much less likely that I obtained it fraudulently as part of a bogus ID.

It seems to me there are only one likely deception here: somebody who didn't want to go would send a sub. A busy businessman sends the nightwatchman. Obviously illegal, but so long as the ringer is not disqualified (which the system does not check) hardly a big deal. That could only be stopped by photo ID. Since there is no way of knowing which of the summoned jury panel will be picked for a particular case, there is no point in a jury nobbler using dodgy ID's.

Within the context of this thread, it's just an inconvenience to anybody like me who stays in the country and who has held a clean driving licence for 45 years. On top of that, I've no real incentive to prove my ID because if they don't like the look of me the worst they can do is send me home. Incidentally, one of the 'proofs' they will accept is three utility bills. I get my gas and electricity from the same supplier and the other's send the bill online.

[Mick F]

You obviously don't exist!

I do wonder if you don't drive, have no utility bills, no passport, and have recently moved to the area, you won't be able identify yourself.

As you're an ex-policeman, and me ex-RN, we both have a past that thrived on our identities. It gets up my nose to some degree that there isn't an ID card system for ex-servicemen by right. When I left the Navy - April 1996 - I handed in my ID card and was given a pass to get me out of the main gate which I had to hand in as I left.

That was it. Finished and done, never to be allowed back. It was a one-way gate.

I could be a member of the British Legion, I could be a member of a Veterans' Society, but I am a member of the South Atlantic Medal Association though, and had to jump through hoops with forms to fill in with Service Number, ships served in and dates etc. They sent me another form asking for a photo countersigned by a "recognised professional" and they sent me an ID card. That's all I've got to show for 27 years service, except for my medals and my Service Certificate in parchment foolscap!

[meic]

You forget the rather healthy pension.

Which is the only thing that I would want from the army. All I have is a service number and a bad back neither which I will ever be able to forget.

On the bright side I never had to kill anybody even indirectly.

[Mick F]

You forget the rather healthy pension.

Which is the only thing that I would want from the army. All I have is a service number and a bad back neither which I will ever be able to forget.

On the bright side I never had to kill anybody even indirectly.

Yes, I do receive a healthy pension, so I suppose I do have some sort of ID - my annual P60's.

I did kill people - indirectly - and it's something I'm not proud of. I didn't join up to kill people, I joined up as callow youth of 16, nearly 17, and all I wanted was a trade and to see the world. I got those ok, but the downside is that Agentinians died by the dint of my skill in maintaining the ship's weapon system. Just thinking about it now as I type gets me upset all these years later ...........

(Not wanting to get into the politics or rights/wrongs of the Falkland's Conflict.)

[Vorpal]

When I moved to the UK, I had a problem in that the system did not recognise me as a person (even with a photo ID). I couldn't obtain utility service, open a bank account, or do anything else because I didn't have a history of addresses, bank accounts, etc. in this country. An agreement signed to rent a house was not considered as proof of address. In order to get electricity, etc. I was supposed to have a bank or building society account. In order to open a bank or building society account I had show proof of address (such as utility bills, etc.). I went to every bank and building society I could get to without luck. I had a similar problem with insurance.

The co-op insurance finally helped me out. They recognised a home-visit by an employee or agent as proof of address. I got insurance and a savings account with them, and was then able to manage my other affairs. But it was a *very* frustrating experience.