A Fingerprint and a Mug Shot
In the intense heat of the desert, I chucked copper pipes into the back of our truck and hauled them to a recycling center. The attendant took my photo, my signature, my driver's license, and my fingerprints, a copy of which went to the police. In three days, my money will be ready for pick up. Really, all I wanted to do was to clear the mess out of our back yard because it looks like squatters live here, squatters who would steel copper pipes out of other people's houses.
It's the second time I've had my photo taken for law enforcement, but that's a story for another day.