No Need To Club Me Over The Head

There's one thing that you can do to instantly reduce yourself to less than a respectable and fully-functioning member of society. 

Something that immediately degrades you and causes others to glare at you like the scorn-worthy sub-human that you are. 

I speak, of course, of presenting yourself at your grocer's cash register without a club card.  And I'm talking not just forgetting it, but of full-on not being a member of the club.

"You don't have a club card?!" Society's Sentinel of All That Is Right, standing behind the counter at the controls of the mighty cash register, will ask with incredulity.

That powerful person, and all others within ear shot, will stare you up and down with one eye, waiting for your second head to sprout.  Or your third eye to appear.  Or, possibly, for you to whip off your coat to reveal your straight jacket. 

How did they let you out of the group home without a club card?  Everyone....must.....have......club card......It has been decreed.

As you may have guessed, I was asked for a club card earlier today, and could not produce one.  The benevolent cashier, taking pity on my club card-lessness, offered to get me one, but I declined.  I don't need no stinkin' club card to validate my self-worth. 

Next time, however, I may borrow my sister's.