Published by
The Philadelphia Inquirer
The Philadelphia Inquirer
A couple of Thursdays ago this guy — call him Al — walks into a bank — a branch of my bank, WSFS, but out in Chester County, where I don’t live — and tells them to cash a fat check. From a real estate company. With my name on it. Let’s see some ID, says the teller. Al shows a driver’s license. In my name. With my date of birth. My address. Someone else’s license number. And a face that, well, you’d have to squint … . She asks his birthday. He gets the month right. But he’s off by eight days. From the license he just handed her. The teller keeps that to herself. Can’t cash this, she says. Thi…