Fake it 'cause you'll never make it

Thanks to the gift of A.D.D., I'm on yet another weird jag. It kind of started when I was admiring my knockoff Amex Centurion Card (a.k.a. "Black Card"), and got to thinking, I should display some sort of impressive ID in my wallet's ID window to reinforce my faux elite status. I wasn't going to put some government agency ID in there; that would bring up too many unwanted questions and possible legal trouble. Plus, how would a government stooge get a Centurion card? No, I decided it was better to have something vague and mysterious to enhance the illusion of exclusivity. So, I created a "VIP All Access" card. All it says is exactly that, with my photo, name, membership date, ID number, and bar code. No organization or agency is mentioned, adding to its mystique, as if it's so exclusive that its very origin is a secret. The big bold letters "VIP" are visible from a few feet away every time I open my wallet, no doubt rousing bystanders' curiosities. "Is he a diplomat?" they may ask themselves. "Or maybe a Congressman? Does he instantly get a table at the busiest restaurants? Does he scan that bar code to get into to a secret night club? Does he get into the private lounges at every airport in the world? Is he exempt from parking tickets? Does he get BJs from strippers?" I relish the intrigue it must create in people's minds.

The idea snowballed from there into scheming up a wallet full of important-looking ID cards to boost the impression of elite status. With supplies from Arcadia ID, you, too, can start getting creative about inflating the importance of certain credentials. An impressive and easy-to-get credential is the title of Ordained Minister, which I've held since last year, available for free from the Universal Life Church. Once you get your certificate, you can make yourself a photo ID card attesting to your standing. They offer their own paper ID cards, but they don't have your photo and they look cheap. For a small donation, they'll also recognize a title you choose for yourself (Bishop and Rabbi are good ones), and if you want to take it further, they also offer Doctorate degrees in various fields. Then pick up a clerical shirt on eBay and wear it proudly with a dark suit. There are nature preserves in Scotland that will grant you the title of Laird if you buy a square foot of their protected lands, and various other honorary titles of nobility can be had for a price. If you really want to waste some money, get yourself diplomatic status with the Conch Republic. If you have a Flickr account, you can call yourself a photographer and create a dandy little Press/Media ID card. Ditto for business review sites like yelp.com, where you can post a few reviews and call yourself a "contributor" on your homemade ID card. Ever made a home movie or put something on YouTube? Make up an ID card declaring yourself an independent film director. Hell, if I only posted some newsworthy crap on this blog now and then, I could call myself an independent journalist and add yet another press ID card to my collection. Wouldn't it sound impressive to say you're a member of the Smithsonian Institution? Well, anyone who subscribes to their magazine is considered a member. They issue paper membership cards, but why not make a pretty plastic one with your photo? If you do sign up, try actually reading the magazine and get yourself some damn culture. Why not just make up an important- or mystical-sounding fraternity comprised of you and a friend or two? Check to make sure it doesn't already exist, conjure up a coat of arms or pay a starving artist on fiverr.com 5 bucks to make you one, and make some IDs documenting your membership in the Ancient Order of the Rosy Palm.

Fine garments support the illusion of elite status nicely. Never mind that I've had them for years, or received many of them as gifts, or that some of them came used from eBay. I've gotten Brooks Brothers polo shirts gently used for $15. No one has to know my $500 Brooks Brothers sportcoat cost $28. As a good friend of mine once said, "Fabulosity is made out of bullshit."

I experimented with making a hang-tag for my car's rear view mirror, reading "VIP All Access Permit," but its first incarnation just looked retarded, probably because it was in the windshield of a dented 13-year-old Ford with a wheel cover missing. *Sigh* That's the one big prop I lack, and can't afford—the right vehicle. A wannabe-VIP doesn't necessarily have to have a new or expensive car to look important and respectable, but he does need the right kind. A newer model of a respected make, preferably black or silver, in an elegant body style (hatchbacks are verboten!), would be quite sufficient. A Lincoln Town Car, a Toyota Avalon, even a Chevy Suburban, all have a certain something. Avoid the Chrysler 300 and Kia Amanti, which shamelessly imitate high-end makes. However, one need not acquire a brand new car to project an aura of Old Money elitism. Keep in mind that Old Money types buy expensive cars and keep them running for 10, 15, 20 years, or longer, so the older you are, the better advantage you have. You could have gotten that '97 Mercedes convertible for your sweet 16 and kept it all these years. Look for something that once cost a lot of money, like an '80s model Mercedes sedan or a '90s model Lexus LX sedan, and educate yourself about maintenance. Have it repainted either black or silver if you can afford it. Note: this strategy only flies if you're white; minorities do not pass for Old Money and will be shooed out of the country club parking lot. If changing your ride is simply out of reach, you could settle for being seen with a key fob bearing the logo of your dream car. Just be sure to cover up the Daewoo logo on your car keys.

As far as what to do to your car's outward appearance, it depends on what brand of importance you're projecting. If you want to look influential, the VIP mirror tag would be a nice touch. A small, rectangular American or state flag sticker on the rear windshield can lead people to assume you're an important official, just avoid big or wavy flags. An extra antenna on the trunk lid (or hood if an SUV) looks important, too, just don't put one on a Grand Marquis, which looks too similar to a police car. If you're trying to make your car look like "Old Money," there are several options: a windshield sticker from a prestigious university; your initials in nautical semaphore flags on the driver's door or front bumper; an oval bumper sticker from a local vacation spot where rich people go; a sticker from a local church where rich people go; a sticker with the logo of a yacht club; or a sticker with a Caduceus or scales of justice. Spelling out your surname in capital Old English letters is not recommended.

Ultimately, this horseshit is really only good for wowing total strangers, getting into restricted areas or events (who's going to tell a minister he's not allowed in the hospital after visiting hours?), or impressing random women who will fuck you because you have a Black Card (tell them your Ferrari is in the shop and the old Mercedes helps you keep a low profile). If you're meeting new people you'll likely see again, your smokescreen will evaporate once they start asking about your time at Harvard or your journalistic endeavors at the New Yorker (comprised of a letter to the editor that got published). You won't make influential friends with all this folderol, so your options are (A) keep your poseur's car and your wallet full of bullshit out of sight, or (B) be honest about your humble life, and if asked about your props later on, just tell them you get a kick out of bullshitting strangers. People with a good sense of humor will probably only respect you even more for your social-engineering shenanigans.