How many of y'all run with ID? I know that I'm supposed to, but that's just one of those things I haven't got around to yet. I don't know if I should spring for the real thing, or just cram an index card with my name and my husband's phone number in my shoe.
It kind of seems like a moot point here in my husband's (small) hometown though. If I were to ever fall off the sidewalk, not see an approaching car, or get attacked by a wild cocker spaniel, I'm pretty sure I know how it would play out...
Lady who discovers me on her power walk: Oh dear! Mary Jo, there's a fallen runner in the road! Call your nephew over at the fire department!
Mary Jo whips out her cell phone and the paramedics are quickly dispatched. Mary Jo and her friend wait with me (unconscious) for them to arrive.
Mary Jo: Hmm, they say that that running is bad for you. Bad for your knees, too. My cousin's uncle that lived up North was all into that running mess and, bless his heart, died from a heart attack while he was running. It's unnatural, Thelma.
Thelma: Goodness, isn't she ________'s wife?
Mary Jo: I knew she was familiar! ________, from church is his mama. Call Derb and have him get their number from the Presbyterian church directory. Let her know to meet us at the hospital.
By this time, the volunteer fire department paramedics have arrived and Thelma is on the phone.
Paramedic 1: Alright, what we got here? Oh! I've seen her before, but she's not from around here.
Paramedic 2: Oh yeah...she's married to ______________. Remember, I used to date his cousin in high school?
Thelma: Oh, you mean ________________. She's such a sweet girl, how's her daddy doing?
By this time, they've loaded me up in the ambulance and the whole town, including my husband, in-laws, friends, and church circle have been notified. It's a closed case.
So it seems a little silly to worry about being Jane Doe here, but I do occasionally escape from this small town. Maybe I'll order the Road ID after all.