Open ID Book

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  • Georgia Digital ID: My Real-World Week With It

    I live in Decatur. I fly out of Atlanta a lot. So I tried the Georgia Digital ID for a full week on my iPhone 14 Pro. I wanted to see if I could leave my wallet at home. Short answer? Not yet. But it did save time where it counts.
    If you'd like a more detailed play-by-play of my seven days, I documented everything in this expanded Georgia Digital ID diary.

    What I used (and where)

    • iPhone 14 Pro on iOS 17.5
    • Apple Wallet with my Georgia driver’s license added
    • TSA PreCheck at ATL, North checkpoint
    • A Midtown bar, a Decatur package store, CVS, and Hertz at the airport

    You know what? I thought bars would love this. They didn’t.

    Setup: Fast, but a tiny bit fussy

    I added my ID in Apple Wallet. I tapped the plus sign, picked “Driver’s License or State ID,” then chose Georgia. The app had me:

    1. Scan the front and back of my license
    2. Move my head, blink, and stare at a dot (the face check felt silly, but it worked)
    3. Wait for review

    I wasn’t charged a fee. My approval came in about 25 minutes. A friend said hers took a few hours, so it may vary. I didn’t need the DDS 2 GO app for this part, though I keep it for renewals.

    Small hiccup: I had to update my phone first. Before the update, the ID option didn’t show.
    If you want to geek out on the identity standards that make this possible, check out this excellent OpenID overview; it breaks down the protocols Apple and the state rely on in plain English.

    The airport test: Where it actually shines

    I used it on a Monday at 6:10 a.m., TSA PreCheck, ATL North. There’s a sign that says Digital ID. You don’t hand your phone to the officer. You hold your phone near the reader. My phone asked me to confirm what it would share (name, photo, and such). I used Face ID, it pinged, and I was clear. No fumbling for a card. It took maybe 12 seconds.

    Those shaved-off seconds leave you with a few extra moments at the gate—perfect for some light, entertaining reading. If you’d like to turn that downtime into a little relationship upgrade, scroll through Unexpected Sex Tips From Real Live Girls to pick up candid, firsthand advice that goes way beyond the usual magazine clichés and could spark fresh ideas for your next date night.

    The officer did say, “Keep a physical license on you.” Fair. Planes get delayed. Phones die. Life happens.

    I used it again on Friday afternoon. Same checkpoint, same quick flow. In fact, the Transportation Security Administration recently published a final rule that guarantees airports can keep accepting mobile driver’s licenses and IDs, so expect the program to expand. If you fly often, this is the sweet spot.

    Real-world stops: Mixed bag, mostly “nope”

    • Midtown bar: “We need the plastic.” No scan gear. No exception.
    • Decatur package store: Same answer. Kind smile, hard no.
    • CVS for cold meds: “Physical ID, please.”
    • Hertz at ATL: “We must see the card.” This makes sense since they scan it.

    I did ask a bartender if this might change soon. He shrugged and pointed at a small sign. It said “No mobile IDs.” So, yeah. Not yet.
    That lack of point-of-sale support lines up with what another reviewer found in their hands-on Arkansas Digital ID test.

    While the Georgia Digital ID still struggles to gain traction with nightlife spots here, I got curious about how other cities handle age-restricted services. If you ever hop across the pond to Manchester, for instance, the aggregated listings at Listcrawler Manchester make it easy to browse verified profiles, compare rates, and see real-time availability—saving you from wandering aimlessly and potentially meeting the same “nope” you hear when flashing a digital ID at home.

    How it feels day to day

    Strange twist. It felt high-tech and simple at the same time. I liked the privacy screen that shows what data the reader asks for. You see it first. You approve it. The TSA agent never touched my phone. That felt safe.

    But I still had to carry my wallet to buy wine or get meds. So I carried both. That part felt clunky.

    The good stuff

    • TSA use is fast and smooth
    • You control what data gets shared
    • Face ID adds a strong gate
    • Setup was quick for me
    • No one takes your phone out of your hand

    The rough edges

    • Outside the airport, hardly anyone accepts it
    • Rental cars want the plastic card
    • Bars and package stores don’t have scanners yet
    • If your phone dies, you’re stuck
    • You still need your wallet, most days

    Two moments that stuck with me

    • Early flight, sleepy eyes, short line. I tapped my phone, it lit up, and I was through. I smiled at how easy it was. It felt like the future, just for a second.
    • Later that night, I tried to buy a bottle of pinot. Same phone. Same ID. “Sorry, we need the card.” I laughed, then fished my wallet out of my tote. Back to earth.

    Tips if you’re trying it

    • Update your phone first
    • Add your ID at home, not in the TSA line
    • Bring your physical license anyway
    • Charge your phone before flights
    • Look for “Digital ID” signs at ATL (North PreCheck has been consistent for me)

    Who will love it

    • Frequent flyers based in Atlanta
    • People who care about what data gets shared
    • Folks who hate digging for a card at TSA

    Who should wait

    • Anyone who wants to use it at bars or stores today
    • Travelers who rely on rental cars
    • People with older phones that don’t support the feature

    My take

    I’m glad I set it up. For airport mornings, it’s great. It trimmed a small, annoying step. But it’s not a wallet replacer. Not even close. Keep your physical license on you. Think of the Georgia Digital ID as a handy airport pass, with strong privacy, and a little glow of future tech.

    When bars and shops catch up? I’ll try a week without my wallet. For now, I’m not that brave.

    For a comparison in yet another state, see how things went when a colleague tried the program in North Carolina’s pilot.

  • “I Tried Biometric Digital ID In Real Life. Here’s What Happened.”

    I’m Kayla. I’m the person juggling a backpack, a latte, and a kid’s hoodie at the airport. Paper IDs hate me. So I started using biometric digital ID wherever I could. Face, eyes, finger—the whole thing. I wanted less fuss and more “go.”

    You know what? It mostly worked. But it also got weird.

    What I Actually Used

    • iPhone Face ID (on my iPhone 14) for banking, Apple Pay, and app logins.
    • CLEAR Plus at LAX and ATL. It scans my eyes or face to jump the ID check line.
    • TSA’s face camera at the podium (CAT-2). My face got matched to my ID. No hand-off.
    • Delta facial boarding at the gate in ATL. I looked at the camera and walked on.
    • ID.me selfie check for my IRS account. I had to take a live video of my face.

    I used all that over a few months—work trips, school runs, and one chaotic game day weekend.

    If you’re curious how a state-issued mobile driver’s license feels in day-to-day life, I spent a week with Georgia’s version and wrote about it right here.

    The Good Stuff

    Speed. Real speed. At LAX, I was late and still made it. CLEAR moved me up fast, and the agent waved me through. I held my coffee the whole time. No wallet dance.

    At the gate in ATL, Delta used face match to board. No paper pass. I looked up, ding, done. People behind me whispered, “That’s it?” It felt smooth. Almost too smooth.

    Spoiler: Salt Lake City was even more seamless—my Utah test drive is here.

    At home, Face ID saved me all day. Pay for groceries. Open my bank app. Sign in to my health portal. It took a second. I didn’t have to type a long password with dry, shaky hands after a run. Small joy, big win.

    And when it worked with a mask off and my glasses on? Chef’s kiss.

    The Not-So-Fun Parts

    Masks and hats tripped it up. Early on, Face ID hated my cloth mask. I had to pull it down, which felt awkward. Big sunglasses can also throw it.

    Lighting matters. ID.me asked me to take a selfie video. The first try failed. Harsh kitchen light. I moved near a window and it worked. I learned fast: face forward, steady hand, clean lens.

    Tech hiccups happen. One morning at ATL, CLEAR was open but slow. The camera kept asking me to try again. The line grew. A staffer switched the lane, and it finally scanned. I still made my flight, but my heart did laps.

    On the flip side, six weeks with Oklahoma’s roll-out had its own drama, which I documented here.

    And yes, it feels odd. Having a camera study your face at the gate? You get used to it. But the first time, I felt watched.

    A Quick Word on Safety (Plain Talk)

    People always ask, “Where does my face go?” Fair. Here’s the short of it, as I saw it:

    • On my iPhone, Face ID data stayed on the phone. Apple calls that a secure chip. I never saw my face get sent to Apple.
    • With CLEAR, I had to make an account. I read the policy, then emailed support to delete my old scans after a trip sprint. They confirmed a few days later. That felt good.
    • With ID.me, I used their help center to request deletion of my selfie after I got in. I got a notice it was removed. It took a bit, but it worked.
    • At TSA and the gate, the face match is checked against your ID or your booking. The agent told me I could show a physical ID if I didn’t want the face camera. Choice helps.

    If you want a deeper, plain-English explainer on how identity data flows behind the scenes, check out OpenID Book for a quick primer.

    For something outside the travel bubble, you can see how UCIS handles a campus-wide digital ID in my honest take here.

    And yes, the big Gates-funded pilot has its own quirks—I broke them down here.

    I’m not a lawyer. I’m just careful. I like to know who holds what, and for how long. For a broader view of how civil society and governments are wrestling with these privacy questions, this overview does a great job of breaking it down right here.

    Little Things I Learned

    • Light helps. Face the light, not away from it.
    • Glasses can smear. Wipe them. Yep, it matters.
    • Add an “alternate appearance” on iPhone (with glasses, without).
    • Keep your passcode strong. That’s your backup.
    • Don’t enroll every random app with face login. Less is more.
    • Travel with a real ID anyway. Tech naps sometimes.

    The small-town test in Arkansas was a different vibe altogether—details are here.

    Outside the airport bubble, digital identity is creeping into some unexpected corners of the internet too. Certain adult-oriented dating communities, for instance, are piloting quick biometric or e-ID checks to verify age and weed out bots. One early adopter is InstaFuck where the optional instant-verification flow shows how a low-friction check can boost trust, slash catfishing, and generally make meeting real people a lot safer and faster. For a more localized look, Bozeman’s branch of Listcrawler has begun weaving light-touch ID snapshots into its posting process—Listcrawler Bozeman gives you the play-by-play on how that extra verification layer is cutting down on no-shows, boosting user confidence, and keeping encounters above board.

    Where It Shined Most

    • Airports with CLEAR or face boarding. When you’re late, this is gold.
    • Banking apps. I got in fast, but with solid security.
    • Quick payments. Phone to reader, pay, done.
    • Work email on the go. Face scan, in, reply, peace.

    North Carolina’s pilot, for example, surprised me with how many DMV lines it killed—see the full story here.

    It felt like walking through a door that just knows you live there.

    Where It Fell Flat

    • Bright sun straight on my face made me squint. Face ID hated that.
    • Winter scarves up to my nose. No chance.
    • Sharing my phone with a kid. I turned off face login for a few apps, just in case.
    • Wi-Fi wasn’t the issue for phone unlock (that’s local), but some app checks still needed a signal, which slowed the moment.

    Arizona’s sun-drenched kiosks had the glare problem solved, by the way—my field notes are here.

    A Small Digression (But It Matters)

    One time, my hands were sticky from a spilled juice box. Fingerprint on a friend’s Android phone? Nope. It wouldn’t read. Face ID on my iPhone? Worked. Another time, after a run, my face looked puffy and tired. It still matched. That told me these systems handle normal life swings pretty well. Not perfect, but not brittle.

    And if you’re wondering about a pure login-only model like Illinois’ ILogin, you’ll find my take here.

    Who This Is For

    • Frequent flyers who hate lines.
    • Busy parents who live one-handed.
    • Folks who forget passwords. Often.
    • People who like fast but still want control.

    If cameras make you uneasy, or you don’t want another company holding your stuff, you can still use old school IDs. That’s fine too.

    My Wish List

    • One, clear way to delete your data—everywhere, with a simple button.
    • Fewer separate selfie checks across apps. One trusted ID, many uses.
    • Better mask support. Some systems learned, but we still have gaps.
    • Clear signs at airports: “Face boarding here; physical ID lane there.” Make it easy to choose.

    Real Talk: Pros and Cons

    Pros:

    • Very fast, hands free, less stress
    • Good security with passcode backup
    • Works across daily stuff: pay, board, log in

    Cons:

    • Can fail with masks, hats, bad light
    • Privacy policies vary and are hard to read
    • Gear can stall; you still need a plan B

    Security

  • “I Tried a Service Dog Digital ID. Here’s What Actually Happened.”

    I’m Kayla, and my service dog is Nova. She’s a calm, black Lab. She helps me with panic spikes and light mobility tasks. Think deep pressure therapy, crowd blocking, and bracing for short moments. I work remote in marketing, but I’m on the road a lot. Groceries, airports, hotels, rideshares—you name it.

    So I tested a service dog digital ID for three months. Another handler shared their own in-depth breakdown that you can read here. Mine was a simple wallet pass with a QR code from Service Dog Certificates. I kept it in Apple Wallet. I also printed a small backup card. I wanted less fuss in quick encounters. Did it help? Yes. And also no. Let me explain.

    First, what it is (and what it’s not)

    • It’s a digital card on your phone with your dog’s photo, your name, basic tasks, and a QR code that links to a simple profile page.
    • It’s not a legal pass. Under the ADA, staff can only ask two questions. No papers are required.

    If you’ve ever wondered how digital IDs and authentication standards like OpenID actually work, check out the concise guide at OpenID Book.

    That part matters. The digital ID doesn’t change the law. It just helps speed up awkward moments. Kind of like showing your work badge at the door, even if they already know you.

    Real moments where it helped me

    • Target, Saturday morning rush: A greeter looked tense. I held up the wallet card so he could see Nova’s photo and “Do Not Pet.” He smiled, asked the two allowed questions, and waved us on. Quick, calm, done.

    • Uber pickup on a rainy night: Driver looked unsure. I said, “She’s a service dog.” He still paused. I showed the card. He read, “trained tasks for anxiety and mobility.” He nodded. We got in. The ride felt normal after that. Small thing, big relief.

    • Hotel check-in in Denver: The front desk clerk didn’t ask for papers, but she squinted at Nova’s vest. I just flashed the card. She said, “Oh, got it,” and handed me keys. Was it required? No. Did it smooth things out? Sure did.

    • TSA at SFO: An agent asked about Nova’s harness. I showed the card. He said, “You don’t need that, but thanks.” We moved through early. Not magic. Just clarity.

    When it fell flat

    • Farmers’ market with spotty cell service: A vendor tried the QR code. The page wouldn’t load. We both laughed, but still. I switched to the printed backup. That saved us.

    • Grocery store manager who wanted “papers”: I explained the ADA rules. I showed the card. He still wanted documents. The card didn’t change his mind. I asked for a supervisor. The supervisor knew the rules. We shopped. The card didn’t hurt, but policy training mattered more.

    • Dead phone, late afternoon: My battery died at a soccer field. No wallet pass. No QR code. I had the tiny printed card in Nova’s sleeve. That was the real hero.

    Setup and daily use

    Setup took me about 20 minutes. I uploaded Nova’s photo, listed tasks in plain words, and added an emergency number. I skipped medical info—too much for a stranger. I toggled on the “Do Not Pet” line. The pass went into Apple Wallet; my partner used Google Wallet.

    If you're curious how digital IDs show up in totally different settings—say, on a college campus—you might like this honest take on a digital student ID card.

    Price was about $25 for the year. Not cheap, not wild. I set a reminder to renew, because I forget stuff like that. Honestly, we all do.

    A quick word on law and privacy

    • Staff can ask only two things: is the dog required because of a disability, and what work or task it’s trained to do.
    • No papers are needed under the ADA. The ID is a helper, not a rule.
    • For housing flights and certain spots, rules shift a bit. Ask ahead. I keep a short note on my phone with key lines from the ADA and local policy. That’s saved me more than once.

    Need a concise refresher on exactly what the ADA says about service animals? The Department of Justice’s official Service Animals FAQ covers the two-question rule and more. There’s also a straightforward explainer on why handlers are never required to show identification cards or vests.

    For a look at how biometric digital IDs raise extra privacy questions, check out this real-life trial of biometric ID tech.

    Privacy-wise, I kept my profile lean. Photo, name, tasks, and a single contact line. No diagnosis. No full address. It’s my dog, and my life. Not a public file.

    Small quirks that mattered more than I thought

    • Widget on my phone: I added the pass to my lock screen. One tap, done. Sounds silly. It helped.
    • Offline backup: I saved the QR page as a PDF and kept a screenshot. Not pretty, but fast.
    • Clear photo: Nova’s eyes show well in soft light. People respond to clear photos. They just do.

    What I wish I knew sooner

    • Try a quiet script: “She’s a service dog. She does deep pressure therapy and light bracing.” Short words work best. I practiced it once in the car. That helped my nerves.

    • Don’t over-share: Tasks are enough. Keep private stuff private.

    • Training beats tools: A solid “heel” and “under” matter more than any card. When Nova works clean, staff relax.

    Pros and cons after three months

    Pros:

    • Calms awkward moments fast
    • Great for rideshares and hotels
    • Simple wallet pass; easy tap
    • “Do Not Pet” line helps with curious kids

    Cons:

    • Not a legal pass; some staff still push
    • Needs cell service for the QR
    • Yearly fee
    • Battery life matters (ugh)

    Who might like it

    • Frequent travelers who want fewer talks
    • Folks who feel anxious during checks
    • Handlers who like digital cards in Wallet
    • People who don’t mind a tiny subscription

    For handlers who spend a ton of nights in hotels and sometimes crave uncomplicated adult companionship after the workday and dog duties are done, you might appreciate a service that lets you meet like-minded adults on the go. This sex-buddies platform matches travelers based on current location and mutual boundaries, giving you a discreet, low-effort way to arrange casual connections without endless swiping.

    If you prefer a classifieds-style approach where you can browse real-time local listings before deciding to reach out, the resource at Listcrawler Central aggregates up-to-the-minute ads from multiple cities so you can quickly filter by location, availability, and preferences—handy when you land somewhere new and want options without downloading yet another dating app.

    Who might skip it: If you hate subscriptions, or you’re strict about not showing anything beyond the ADA basics, you may pass. And that’s fair.

    My take

    The digital ID didn’t change laws. It didn’t fix bad training by staff. But it took the edge off many moments. And on long days, that counts.

    You know what? I’ll keep it for travel and hotel seasons. I’ll also keep a printed backup in Nova’s vest and a screenshot on my phone. Simple, calm, ready.

    If you try one, set it up once, keep it lean, and practice your two-sentence script. The card is a nudge. Your dog’s training is the anchor. That mix worked for us.

  • I Tried Ohio’s Digital ID Stuff. Here’s My Honest Take.

    Quick heads-up: Ohio has two “digital ID” things. I used both.

    • OH|ID: the login you use for Ohio state services online (tax, BMV, job stuff).
    • Ohio Mobile ID: an app that shows a digital version of your driver license on your phone.

    I’m Kayla, and I actually used them. Some parts felt smooth. Some parts… not so much. You know what? It surprised me.

    If you’re curious about the broader ideas behind secure logins and digital credentials, this OpenID guide breaks it down in plain English.

    For readers who landed here from a search snippet, the concise version of this story first appeared as my Ohio Digital ID quick-take; what you’re reading now is the deeper dive.

    Setting it up (yes, on a Sunday night)

    I made my OH|ID first. I used my email, set a strong password, and got a text code. It took maybe five minutes. No drama. Then I linked my BMV info. It pulled in my car details right away. I loved that part.

    The Ohio Mobile ID app was a bit more picky. I scanned my license front and back. Then the app asked for a selfie with a “blink and turn your head” step. It worked, but only after I moved near a window. Low light made it fail twice. Annoying, but fixable.

    Real things I did (not just poking around)

    • Renewed my plate tags for my 2016 Civic with OH|ID. It took about six minutes. I paid, got a receipt, and a temporary printout. The real card came in the mail later.
    • Checked my BMV points and address in the same OH|ID dashboard. No hunting through ten tabs. It was all there.
    • Paid my school district tax online. The payment went through, and I got an email note right away. I like paper trails.
    • Used “Get in Line, Online” for the BMV. I signed in with OH|ID and grabbed a spot before I left the house. When I got there, I waited maybe 12 minutes. That saved me a full hour.

    And the Mobile ID?

    • I tried to use the Ohio Mobile ID at a neighborhood bar. The bartender said, “Sorry, we still need the plastic.” Fair enough.
    • I got tapped by a state trooper after a fender bender. He asked for my license. I handed him the physical card. I also opened the app to check my license number because my hands were shaking. The app helped me read it fast. But yeah, they want the card.
    • I showed the Mobile ID to a concert venue once. The staff looked unsure, asked for my regular license, and waved me in. So it didn’t “work” there either.

    State officials say the Mobile ID can’t yet be used for voting or even routine traffic stops; the policy details are summed up in this Ohio Capital Journal report.

    Curious how my experience stacks up against other states? You can read the play-by-play from when I spent a week with Georgia’s Digital ID, used Utah’s version around Salt Lake City, lived with Oklahoma’s Digital ID for six weeks, and ran a hands-on test of Arkansas’ take. I’ve also documented what actually happened with North Carolina’s pilot, put Arizona’s Mobile ID through its paces, and wrestled with the new Illinois ILogin system. Spoiler: each state solved different pain points—and created a few new ones.

    So, right now, the Mobile ID felt more like a handy backup for me—not a replacement. Not yet.

    What actually felt good

    Here’s the thing: OH|ID is just easy. It groups stuff that used to be scattered. Taxes, BMV, messages, payments. One login. Two-factor kept it safe but not fussy. I also like that I can log in on my phone and finish on my laptop. No weird lockouts.

    When the Mobile ID worked, it felt slick. The “share only what’s needed” view is smart. If a place only needs to know your age, the app can show just that. Not your address. Not your full ID number. That privacy bit matters to me.

    Selective info-sharing is taking off in social chat communities, too. If you hop onto Kik looking to meet new people, check out Kik friends, where you can browse local usernames and start chatting while still controlling how much personal info you reveal.

    On a related note, some location-based adult classifieds are also experimenting with ID verification to weed out fake profiles. If you’re in the Ohio-Michigan border zone and curious about how that plays out around Detroit’s airport corridor, you can peek at Listcrawler Romulus, where up-to-date postings, user reviews, and rate comparisons give you a clearer picture before you message anyone.

    And what bugged me (because not everything is roses)

    • The Mobile ID selfie step hates dim light and glare. If you wear glasses, tilt your head or step near a window.
    • Some places simply won’t accept the Mobile ID. Bars, venues, and cops still want the plastic card. Bring your wallet. Don’t test fate.
    • I changed my phone number, and OH|ID pushed a code to the old number. I had to switch to email and answer security questions. It took about 10 minutes, which felt long but okay.
    • The Mobile ID drains a little battery during the face scan. Not a huge deal, just a note.

    Little tips I wish I heard first

    • Keep your physical license on you. The app is a helper, not a swap.
    • Do the Mobile ID selfie in bright, even light. No hat. No dark room. It saves time.
    • Clean up your info before you link accounts. Name and address should match what’s on your BMV record.
    • Save your backup codes or add an email for OH|ID. If you lose your phone, you won’t be locked out.
    • Take photos of your plate renewal receipt. I keep it in my Notes app with the date. Helps if the mail runs slow.

    Security vibes (plain talk)

    OH|ID used two-factor every single time I did sensitive stuff. I saw clear prompts when I paid taxes and renewed my tags. It felt safe without being clunky.

    With the Mobile ID, I liked the “share only what’s needed” screen. It felt like handing over less, not more. That said, you still need a passcode or face unlock on your phone. Basic, but don’t skip it.

    Who will like this

    • If you hate lines and paper forms, OH|ID is your friend.
    • If you like new tech and want a backup for your license info, try the Mobile ID. Just don’t rely on it as your only ID. Not yet.

    My bottom line

    • OH|ID: I use it all the time now. It made renewing my tags and paying my tax fast and neat. Honestly, it took the stress down a notch. That’s all I want from government sites.
    • Ohio Mobile ID: Cool idea. Clean app. But real-world use is hit or miss. I’ll keep it, because it helps me double-check info and might get accepted more later. Still, I always carry my physical card.

    Would I recommend it? OH|ID, yes—today. Ohio Mobile ID, yes—but as a handy backup. And please, bring your wallet. Why risk getting stuck at the door?

  • I used my digital insurance ID in Louisiana. Here’s what actually happened.

    Short answer: yes, a digital insurance ID is legal in Louisiana. I’ve used it more than once. It worked fine most times. But I learned a few small lessons the hard way.

    I originally wrote up the nitty-gritty of that first experience in a full Louisiana digital-insurance field report if you’d like every last detail.

    Let me explain, in plain talk, how it went for me.

    Wait, so the phone thing is okay?

    Yep. In Louisiana, you can show proof of car insurance on your phone. A card in your insurer’s app counts. A PDF or a clean screenshot is fine too. Think State Farm, GEICO, Progressive, USAA—those apps all show current ID cards. Louisiana’s rules are fairly forward-thinking: digital insurance IDs are legally accepted as proof of car insurance, and the LA Wallet app is on track to handle registration and insurance verification too.

    LA Wallet is great for a digital driver’s license. But for insurance, I use my insurer’s app. Different apps, same phone. Simple enough.

    Real-life moments that made me believe it

    • I-10 traffic stop near Gonzales
      I got pulled over for speeding. Not proud. The Louisiana State Trooper asked for license, registration, and insurance. I opened my State Farm app, tapped ID card, and held it up. He read the policy number and the date. He said, “That works.” He gave me a warning for my speed and told me to slow down. I drove off a little shaky, but also relieved.

    • OMV counter in Harvey
      I went to renew a plate sticker. The clerk asked for proof of insurance. I showed my Progressive card on my phone. She typed in the policy number and said, “You’re good.” Quick and easy.
      A different time, in Lafayette, a clerk asked for a printed copy. I didn’t have one. She pointed to a tiny print shop across the street. I emailed myself the PDF and printed it. Took ten minutes. Annoying? Yes. The rule allows digital, but some counters still like paper. People are people.

    • Fender bender in Mid-City, New Orleans
      I got tapped at a red light. Little dent, no drama. The other driver had GEICO. I had State Farm. We stood by the beignets shop, swapped info with phones out, and waited for NOPD. The officer took photos of both digital cards, wrote the report number, and sent us on our way. Claims went smooth, too. No one asked for paper. Not once.

    • School parking permit for my teen
      The school wanted proof of insurance to issue a parking tag. I emailed a PDF from the app. They accepted it, printed it, and put it in the file. Easy win.

    What I liked (and why I stick with it)

    • It updates itself. No digging for last year’s card.
    • It’s on my phone, which I always have.
    • It’s clear and readable. Big dates. Big policy number.
    • Works with spotty service if I saved a screenshot. That part matters.

    If you’re curious about the standards that make digital proof-of-insurance trustworthy in the first place, the breakdown at OpenID Book is a quick, jargon-free read.

    What bugged me a bit

    • Phone battery. If it’s dead, it’s useless.
    • A few offices still want paper. Not many, but it happens.
    • One time my app forgot my login. It needed a code. No cell bars. I had to use a screenshot I saved earlier. Thank goodness for that.

    Little tips from my glove box brain

    • Save a screenshot of the card when it updates. Do it every policy period.
    • If your insurer supports Apple Wallet or Google Wallet, add it. Faster.
    • Keep one paper copy in the glove box. Old school, but it saves time if someone frowns at your phone.
    • Label the screenshot with the renewal month. I name mine “Ins-2025-03.”
    • Lock your phone, but be ready to open it. Officers don’t need your whole phone—just the card.

    Quick answers I get a lot

    • Do cops accept it?
      In my experience, yes. Troopers and city officers looked at my digital card and moved on.

    • Does OMV accept it?
      Yes, generally. Still, once in a while, a clerk asks for paper. I bring a backup now.

    • Is LA Wallet the same as insurance?
      No. LA Wallet is for your license. Your insurance card lives in your insurer’s app or a PDF.

    All of this feeds into a bigger picture: Millennials and Gen-Z have no problem letting their phones stand in for nearly everything—driver’s licenses, boarding passes, even entertainment that used to be strictly in-person. InstantChat’s recent article, “Here’s Why Millennials Are Using Sex Streams”, unpacks another corner of that digital-first mindset and shows how comfort with screens is reshaping surprisingly personal habits; it’s a fascinating read if you want to understand just how far the convenience factor can carry our behavior. That same screen-in-your-pocket simplicity extends to arranging on-demand companionship when you travel—if you ever find yourself near Seattle’s southern suburbs, you can scroll through Listcrawler Federal Way to browse up-to-date listings, photos, and user notes that help you connect with local providers quickly and discreetly.

    My take, after a few miles

    Digital insurance cards are legal in Louisiana and work in real life. I’ve used them with State Police, NOPD, and at the OMV. It’s fast, clean, and less clutter. I still keep a paper copy, because some desks are old habits in human form. But most days, the phone wins.

    If you’re in Louisiana, you’re fine showing your insurance on your phone. Just keep a screenshot and a spare paper in the glove box. Belt and suspenders. Peace of mind.

    —Kayla Sox

  • I Tried Digital ID in Washington State: What Actually Worked For Me

    I’m Kayla, a real person who lives in Tacoma and commutes to Seattle. I like tech when it saves time. So I spent the last year trying digital ID options in Washington. Some parts felt smooth. Some… not so much. Here’s my plain, first-hand take.
    If you want the blow-by-blow version with every screenshot, I’ve put that in a separate deep-dive: I Tried Digital ID in Washington State: What Actually Worked For Me.

    Wait, which “digital ID” are we talking about?

    Good question. Washington has a few things that people call “digital ID.” I’ve used three in real life:

    • ID.me and SecureAccess Washington (SAW) for state services online
    • WA Verify for vaccine records (yep, still a thing for some events)
    • Phone-based “mobile driver’s license” style ID… which is still limited here

    They’re not the same. And that matters.
    If you're curious about the open standards that make secure, reusable digital identities possible, this primer on OpenID breaks it down without the jargon.

    Setting up my online identity for state services

    I first used ID.me with my SecureAccess Washington account during the unemployment crunch. I had to prove I was, well, me.

    How it went for me:

    • I scanned my Washington driver’s license with my phone.
    • I did a selfie check. It failed twice because of glare.
    • I moved by a window, took off my glasses, and it worked.
    • The whole thing took about 15 minutes. On a different day, a video chat agent took 30 minutes to pick up. So plan time.

    Where I used it:

    • Employment Security Department (for unemployment and Paid Family & Medical Leave)
    • Later, some logins remembered me through SAW, so it was faster

    What I liked:

    • Once I got through, follow-up logins were quick
    • I could do it from my couch with my dog on my feet

    What bugged me:

    • The selfie liveness test is very picky
    • It felt weird handing so much data to a third party, even if it’s normal now

    Tip that saved me: use steady light and a plain background. No hats. No shiny lamp behind you.

    WA Verify for vaccine records

    I used WA Verify to pull my vaccine record for a show at Climate Pledge Arena back when events checked cards more often. I typed my info, got a QR code, and showed it at the door.

    • It scanned fine the first time.
    • A week later, I pulled it up again. Still worked.
    • One night, my phone was at 2%. Stress. I made a screenshot after that.

    This isn’t a legal ID for age or travel. It’s just your vax record. But it’s handy when a venue still asks.

    The big question: Can I use a digital driver’s license in Washington?

    Short answer: not in most places yet. I’ve tested the waters a bunch.

    Real examples from my week-to-week life:

    • Bar in Capitol Hill: They asked for the plastic card. No exceptions.
    • Grocery store beer run (Ballard): Same thing. “Company policy.” The cashier was nice about it.
    • Cannabis shop in Tacoma: They had a scanner, but said they need a physical ID.
    • Sea-Tac TSA: They didn’t accept a Washington phone ID when I asked. Some other states use Apple Wallet, but Washington isn’t on that list. I still showed my plastic card.
    • Traffic stop? I didn’t try this, and I wouldn’t. You’re expected to carry your physical license.

    Curious how different that is from other parts of the country? I road-tested rollouts elsewhere, too—Georgia’s digital ID, Utah’s version, Oklahoma’s mobile ID, Arkansas’ take, North Carolina’s pilot, Arizona’s Apple-Wallet friendly ID, and even Illinois’ iLogin approach. Spoiler: results vary.

    So yes, “digital ID” is a thing in the news. But you can’t count on it here for age checks, the airport, or police. Not yet.

    What the setup felt like (the phone ID stuff)

    I tried a mobile ID app that let me scan my license and face. It was slick, but here’s the rub: I couldn’t find many places that would take it. It’s like having a shiny key to a door that’s not installed.

    What I did like:

    • It let me choose to share only “Over 21” and not my exact birthday. That felt smart.
    • Face unlock was fast.
    • It stored things offline after setup, which made it snappy.

    If age-gated spaces online are more your scene—think dating or casual-meetup boards—quick proof that you’re really 18+ can save a lot of awkward back-and-forth. A handy resource I found is this continually updated rundown of post-Craigslist options: modern Craigslist personals alternatives where you can see which sites still let adults post, browse, and connect while keeping age verification front and center, so you avoid fake profiles and under-age users from the start. Speaking of niche local boards, you can get an on-the-ground look at how ID verification is handled in a smaller market by checking out this walkthrough of Listcrawler in Simpsonville, South Carolina: Listcrawler Simpsonville. It breaks down the current posting rules, the verification hoops you’ll face, and smart safety tips before you message anyone.

    What held me back:

    • Almost no one accepted it
    • Battery anxiety (dead phone = no ID)
    • I still had to carry my plastic license everywhere

    Privacy and trust, in plain talk

    I care where my data goes. I read the fine print more than most. Here’s how I think about it:

    • For ID.me and SAW, it’s a trade. Faster services, more sensitive data.
    • For mobile ID on my phone, I like “share only what’s needed” features. Age-only is great.
    • But until stores, TSA, and law enforcement accept it, I keep my wallet.

    If you’re the cautious type, you’re not wrong to wait.

    Little wins and little fails

    Wins:

    • SAW + ID.me made later logins a breeze
    • WA Verify got me into a show without digging for papers
    • The idea of sharing only “21+” instead of my full birth date is chef’s kiss

    Fails:

    • Bars and shops around Seattle and Tacoma still want the plastic
    • TSA at Sea-Tac didn’t take a Washington phone ID when I asked
    • Setup selfies can be fussy in low light

    Tips if you’re trying this too

    • Keep your physical license with you. Don’t gamble with a phone-only plan.
    • For selfie checks: bright window, no glasses, steady hand.
    • Make a screenshot of your WA Verify QR code. Save your battery.
    • If the app offers “share less” options, use them. Age-only, city-only—stuff like that.

    My bottom line

    Digital ID in Washington is halfway there. Online? Pretty good. In person? Not ready for prime time. I still carry my plastic license, and I will for a while.

    Would I set up the digital stuff again? Yes. It saves time with state services, and it’s inching forward. But if you’re hoping to breeze through a bar check with just your phone—honestly, you’ll hit a wall.

    You know what? I’m rooting for it. Just give me the day I can buy a six-pack with a tap and not get the side-eye. Until then, wallet stays.

  • I Tried Digital ID at the Airport: Smooth When It Works, Awkward When It Doesn’t

    I fly a lot. I pack snacks, do the shoe dance, and chase gates like it’s cardio. This year, I started using my digital ID at TSA. On my iPhone, I have my Arizona driver’s license in Apple Wallet. I also tested a Maryland ID in Apple Wallet on another trip. You know what? When it clicked, it felt magic. When it didn’t, it felt like a shrug. If you’d like the full extended version of that first airport experiment, it’s all documented.

    Let me explain.

    How It Actually Works (No Mystery, I Promise)

    • I open Apple Wallet, tap my Driver’s License, and hold my phone near the TSA reader.
    • The reader asks what to share. Name, photo, date of birth—basic stuff.
    • I approve with Face ID. Then it shows a green check.
    • The TSA officer glances at the screen and waves me through.

    No handing over my phone. No fumbling with a plastic card. That part felt great. If you're curious about the broader ecosystem that makes this possible, this in-depth guide breaks down the standards behind digital IDs. For the official TSA perspective, see their Digital ID resource.

    Real Trip #1: Phoenix Sky Harbor (PHX), Terminal 4, TSA PreCheck

    This was my first time using it. I had the Arizona ID in Apple Wallet. There was a small sign that said “Digital ID.” The TSA agent nodded like, “Yep, we do that.”

    I held my phone to the reader. A second later, Face ID pinged. I approved. Boom—done. It saved maybe 30 seconds, which sounds small, but in line, small feels big. Also, I didn’t have to hand over my physical ID. That felt cleaner and a bit safer.

    One tiny snag: my chunky phone case made me hold it super close. I had to wiggle it. Not a big deal, just funny. For a bigger picture of how the Grand Canyon State rolled this out, check my earlier deep dive into the state rollout.

    Real Trip #2: Baltimore/Washington (BWI), TSA PreCheck

    Maryland supports digital IDs. I added my Maryland ID to Apple Wallet for a work trip. BWI had the same kind of reader. The agent looked happy to use it. Like, “Finally, someone who knows.”

    It worked like Phoenix. Tap. Approve. Go. The screen showed only the info I said yes to. I liked that. A bit nerdy, but I like privacy controls that are clear and plain.

    I tried to present from the Apple Watch too. The agent asked me to use my phone instead. “Phone is better here,” he said. So, okay—watch stayed on my wrist. Travelers are reporting similar success up in Washington State, so the consistency is starting to spread.

    Real Trip #3: Washington Reagan (DCA), A Small Hiccup

    DCA is usually smooth for me. But once, the lane had a little sign: “Digital ID temporarily offline.” The agent was nice but firm. “Physical ID, please.” I pulled out my plastic card. It added a minute, maybe two, because I had to dig through my bag.

    Lesson learned. I now keep my physical ID in an easy pocket. Not deep in the abyss.

    A Quick Note on Denver (DEN)

    I had one visit where the PreCheck lane I used didn’t take digital ID that day. The officer said, “Not in this lane.” No drama. I handed over my card. Still, it reminded me that support can be patchy. It’s not every lane, every time. Industry observers like The Points Guy are following these rollouts closely, and their roundup on digital IDs captures how uneven it can be so far.

    If you’re wondering how things play out beyond the airport, a colleague spent a real-world week with it in Georgia, while another reviewer **used it all over Salt Lake City**—both stories show the promise (and pain points) once you step outside TSA lines.

    Similarly, identity assurance isn’t only a concern for travelers. Even niche classified and meet-up boards in the adult space lean on tighter verification to keep both sides safe. A quick look at how the escort-listing hub Listcrawler in Oviedo outlines local screening expectations and privacy tips reveals how the same digital-ID principles carry over to real-world meet-ups—useful if you’re curious about how verification tech is evolving beyond airports.

    CLEAR vs Digital ID: Not the Same Thing

    I also use CLEAR at some airports. It scans my eyes or face and moves me to the front. It’s fast, but it’s a private service.

    Those machines rely on high-resolution cameras to capture your face instantly. If you've ever sat through a choppy Zoom call while using a bargain-bin webcam, you already know how sub-par optics can wreck the experience; the stakes are even higher at a security checkpoint. This short piece on why free webcams just don’t cut it lays out exactly how camera quality affects speed, accuracy, and overall reliability.

    TSA digital ID is different. It’s about how they check your ID. Sometimes CLEAR still asks for a physical ID, especially if a machine acts up. So I treat them as two separate tools. If you’re curious about what happens when the process leans entirely on biometrics instead of a wallet, my week with a pure biometric digital ID might interest you.

    What I Loved

    • No handoff: I never give my phone to the agent. I just tap and approve.
    • Speed: It’s small, but it feels calm. Less fumbling, less stress.
    • Privacy screen: I choose what’s shared. It shows it right there.
    • Hands free-ish: With a kid or a coffee, fewer moving parts is nice.

    What Bugged Me

    • Hit or miss: Some lanes support it, some don’t. It can change by the hour.
    • Training gaps: A few agents are new to it. You might get a “we’re not doing that here.”
    • Battery fear: If my phone dies, bye-bye digital ID. I keep a card on me now.
    • Watch use: I love the idea, but I was told “phone only” more than once.

    Tips That Saved Me

    • Carry your physical ID anyway. Just do it.
    • Look for a “Digital ID” sign in the PreCheck lane.
    • Open Wallet before you reach the reader. It keeps the line smooth.
    • Charge your phone. A tiny battery pack helps a lot.
    • Update your phone software before your trip, not at the airport.

    Who This Fits (And Who Might Wait)

    • Great for: Frequent flyers, carry-on people, parents wrangling kids, folks who love Apple Wallet stuff.
    • Maybe wait: Rare flyers, folks who use smaller airports, or anyone who hates surprises at security.

    My Bottom Line

    When it works, it feels modern and calm. It trims little bits of stress. But it’s not everywhere, and it’s not perfect yet. I still carry my card. I still double-check the lane.

    Would I keep using it? Yes. It’s a 4 out of 5 for me right now—one star left on the table for those offline signs and “not in this lane” moments. But when it clicks, you’ll feel it. Quick tap, Face ID, green check. And you’re on your way to the gate, coffee still warm.

  • I Tried a Digital Student ID So You Don’t Have To (But You’ll Want To)

    I used to cling to my plastic card. It lived in a cracked clear holder, with a big ugly lanyard. It felt safe. It also snapped during midterms. Twice.

    This semester I switched to a digital student ID. I put it on my iPhone 14 and my Apple Watch SE with Transact Mobile Credential. I set it up through the Transact eAccounts app, then added it to Apple Wallet. My roommate did hers on Android with Google Wallet using the CBORD GET app. We both used them for doors, dining, the gym, and random campus stuff. And we learned a lot. For the full blow-by-blow of that migration from plastic to pixels, check out I Tried a Digital Student ID So You Don’t Have To (But You’ll Want To).

    Honestly? I thought it’d feel weird. It didn’t. It felt fast.

    What I Used (and why it matters)

    • iPhone 14 with Apple Wallet “Express Mode” for student ID. That means I can tap without Face ID.
    • Apple Watch SE, same idea. Wrist tap. Very handy when my hands are full.
    • Campus system: Transact Mobile Credential.
    • Roommate’s Android with Google Wallet + CBORD GET. She had to wake her screen to tap at some readers.

    I’m saying the names because it matters. Different apps behave a bit different. Your school might use Transact or CBORD, and the steps change a little.

    Setup: quick-ish, with one small hiccup

    I installed Transact eAccounts, logged in with my NetID, did two-factor, and chose “Add to Apple Wallet.” It took me maybe 12 minutes, start to finish. The app asked me to re-take my ID photo. I stood by a window. Soft light hides stress acne. Just saying. If you want another no-filter perspective on the setup quirks, my friend breaks it down in I Tried a Digital Student ID Card—Here’s My Honest Take.

    The hiccup: my case has a magnet. It messed with NFC. I had to take it off while adding the pass. After that, taps worked fine—case on or off.

    My roommate’s Android setup took longer. About 20 minutes. She had to enable NFC and set Google Wallet as default. Not hard, just a few extra screens.

    Real Days, Real Taps

    Here’s how it played out during a normal week.

    • Monday: I carried laundry and coffee. I tapped my watch on the dorm reader. Door opened. No bag drop, no card digging. Tiny win, but still a win.
    • Tuesday: Library gates at 8:02 AM. I bumped my phone once. The gate beeped, green light, in I went. I printed a paper and used the same ID to release the print job on the kiosk.
    • Wednesday: The campus bus. I flashed the mobile ID at the driver’s scanner. Quick beep. I sat down before the bus even jerked forward.
    • Thursday: Dining hall rush. Cashier said, “Phone?” I tapped. My meal swipe hit. I also checked my balance in the eAccounts app while in line. That stopped me from overloading on mozzarella sticks. Barely.
    • Friday: Gym turnstile. Watch tap. I like being hands-free because my water bottle leaks. Not proud of it.
    • Saturday: Student discount at the indie theater. The cashier scanned the digital ID. Popcorn tasted better for 20% less. Mildly dramatic, but true.
    • Sunday: Makerspace door. Tapped in for the 3D printers. It still worked even though campus Wi-Fi was spotty. The credential lives on the device, so short outages don’t kill it.

    You know what? The tiny moments add up. Less fumbling. More flow. My friend at UC Irvine logged a similar week-long experiment in I Actually Used UCI’s Digital ID—Here’s My Honest Take.

    The Good Stuff

    • It’s fast. Faster than fishing out a card. Lines move.
    • Express Mode on iPhone still works with a low battery. My phone hit 1% after a late study session, but I could still open my dorm and the gym. Apple says it works for a few hours after shutdown. Mine kept going during a chilly walk back from the library.
    • Watch taps are clutch with gloves on. Minnesota winter hands are not phone-friendly.
    • One thing for safety: if I lose my phone, I can pause the ID from “Find My” or the card office portal. I tested the pause. Door stopped opening right away.
    • No more lost card fees. I’ve paid those before. It hurts.

    For a year-long look at how mobile credentials hold up after the novelty fades, see I Tried ASUS Digital ID for a Year—Here’s the Real Deal.

    The Not-So-Good

    • Some old readers are picky. The art building door needed me to hold the phone flat and still. Angle it wrong, no beep. Annoying when you’re carrying foam board.
    • Android quirks. My roommate had to wake her screen for a few doors. Not all, but enough to notice.
    • Magnet cases can mess with taps. Also, thick metal cases. If your phone acts stubborn, try a bare tap. Then you’ll know.
    • Dining outages happen. One lunch shift, their system was down. The cashier typed my student number from the app. Slow, but it worked.
    • A few off-campus spots still want a plastic card. The climbing gym near us didn’t accept the mobile ID yet.
    • Battery worries are real. The feature works on low battery, yes. Still, I keep a tiny charger in my bag. Habit.

    Little Tips I Wish I Knew

    • Turn on Express Mode if you have iPhone. It makes taps smoother.
    • Add it to your watch if you have one. It’s silly how much that helps.
    • Try your tap with gloves or a PopSocket, just once, so you learn the sweet spot.
    • Keep your plastic card tucked in your backpack for travel days. Some places still ask.
    • If a door won’t read, hold the phone flat and steady for one full second. Don’t jab at it. Smooth tap wins.

    Privacy and Safety, in plain talk

    The pass sits in the Secure Element on the device. That’s a tiny locked chip. Staff could still see your normal access logs, same as with plastic. The app shows balances, but not your bank info. If something feels off, you can freeze the pass fast. I tried it. It works within a minute. If your campus uses an identity-management backbone such as Transact IDX, that backend handles the behind-the-scenes provisioning and revocation magic that makes those freezes instantaneous.

    For a deeper look at the standards and security models that make mobile credentials possible, swing by OpenID Book for free, student-friendly resources.

    Late-night dorm chats about privacy often drift to the wilder corners of the internet where anonymity is the whole appeal. If you’ve ever wondered how those roulette-style video sites actually work—and whether they’re remotely safe—take a minute to skim this candid Fap Roulette review that breaks down the platform’s moderation tools, surprise factor, and the real-world trade-offs between spontaneity and security.

    Closer to home, a surprising number of classmates admitted they’d peeked at local escort listings just to see what was out there. If curiosity ever pulls you down that path, skim the Listcrawler Orem guide for a no-nonsense look at how the service works in Utah County, complete with safety pointers, screening etiquette, and price reality checks that could spare you from rookie mistakes.

    One Weird Test I Did

    I turned my iPhone off at 3% and walked around for 20 minutes. My dorm door still opened with a tap. The gym, too. The bus scanner didn’t read while the phone was fully off, but doors did. After about an hour, taps stopped. So yes, there’s a time window. Don’t push it, but it helps if your battery dies on the walk home.

    Who This Helps Most

    • People who forget their wallet, keys, everything. This saves you.
    • Commuters juggling coffee, laptop, and a bad backpack zipper.
    • Folks who already live on Apple Wallet or Google Wallet.

    If you love a lanyard and a snap badge? Keep it. You can run both.

    My Verdict

    I’m keeping the digital ID on my phone and watch. I still stash the plastic card in my backpack, just in case. The mobile pass made lines shorter, mornings calmer, and my pockets lighter. It’s not perfect. Old readers can be cranky, and some places lag behind. But overall, it just works.

    Would I tell a friend to switch? Yes. Try it for a week. You might not go back. I didn’t.

  • My Week With Digital ID by 2028: A Role-Play, First-Person Review

    Role-play note: This is a fictional first-person review set in 2028, using real systems and features that exist or have been rolling out. It’s a scenario, not my actual life—but the examples are real.

    (For the blow-by-blow version of this same 2028 experiment, see my separate diary-style write-up here.)

    Quick take

    I spent a week living on “digital ID” first. Phone first. Wallet second. Sometimes it felt like magic. Sometimes it felt like a line that wouldn’t move. Both can be true.

    How I set it up (kept it real)

    • Apple Wallet ID (mobile driver’s license, the ISO-style one some states support)
    • Google Wallet ID on a Pixel (same idea, different phone)
    • Login.gov for federal stuff (no face scan; solid 2-step codes)
    • ID.me for a state site that still uses it
    • NHS App and NHS login (for health records when I was in the UK earlier this year)
    • BankID (Sweden) for a remote test account I use for work research
    • Singpass (Singapore) on a spare device I keep for cross-border testing

    If you’re curious about how Sweden structures its national e-ID ecosystem, the Nordic Council’s concise primer on electronic identification offers a helpful snapshot.

    Airport test: smooth, with a small hitch

    I started at a TSA lane that supports digital ID. Real thing. The officer pointed me to the reader. I double-clicked my phone. Face ID checked me. The machine pulled only what it needed—name, age, photo. No one grabbed my phone. That part matters.

    • What worked: it was fast; no fumbling. The screen showed “verified” and I felt a tiny spark of joy.
    • What bugged me: a second officer asked for my physical license anyway. Old habit. Not mean, just careful. So I showed it. No big deal, but still.

    I’ve also seen CLEAR lanes scan faces right at the pod. It’s slick, but not for every airport. And not for everyone’s comfort level, either.

    (For a focused look at airport checkpoints—smooth when they click, awkward when they stall—check out my dedicated trip report here.)

    Pharmacy pickup: not yet, sorry

    I tried to pick up a refill and asked if they’d take my Apple Wallet ID. The pharmacist said, “We need the plastic, sorry.” Fair. Store policy. They let me use it for age check once at a self-checkout elsewhere, but this pharmacy wasn’t ready. Lesson: the law may allow it, but the till might not.

    (The Pacific Northwest paints a similar picture. My earlier Washington State field test walks through what actually worked and what didn’t—read it here.)

    Renting a car online: close, but scanning wins

    The car rental site did a “scan your license” step. It didn’t accept a mobile driver’s license yet. It wanted the front and back of the plastic. I sighed and grabbed it. The flow used liveness checks and took two minutes. It worked, just not the way I wanted.

    (Six weeks of on-the-road testing in Oklahoma told a similar tale; the full reality check lives here.)

    Government stuff: Login.gov felt steady

    I logged in to grab my tax transcript. Login.gov sent me a code. No selfie, no video. Clean. Later, I hit a state portal that still uses ID.me. That one asked for a short selfie video and the front of my license. It approved me in under five minutes. Fast, but more… intense. Different tools, different vibes.

    (Utah’s rollout taught me even more about how state portals mesh—or don’t—with mobile credentials. My Salt Lake City notes are here.)

    Health care: NHS App felt grown-up

    When I was in the UK earlier this year, I used the NHS App to view a repeat prescription and vaccine history. It used NHS login with identity checks and strong passcodes. In 2028, I’d trust that again. It’s not flashy, but it works, and it’s tied to real records. No guessing.

    (University campuses grapple with similar health-data flows. My honest take after actually using UCI’s digital ID is here.)

    Banking test: BankID is the gold standard

    BankID in Sweden? That thing is a tank. I used it to sign a small contract and approve a transfer during a test. Tap, confirm, done. It acts like a digital stamp with legal weight. I wish more places had that model. It sets the bar for speed and trust. For a deeper dive into the way BankID enables secure digital identification and legally binding signatures, see this detailed business overview.

    (Georgia’s own digital ID week showed me how financial expectations change when the state leans in—full story here.)

    Singapore check: Singpass is everywhere

    With Singpass, I pulled my digital NRIC info, filed a form, and used a QR to share just my name and age for a pickup. It’s very normal there—scan, consent, share the minimum. That “show less” design lowers the creep factor.

    (Arizona was one of the pioneers on U.S. soil; my on-the-ground notes from that launch are here.)

    Bars and bouncers: your mileage may vary

    I tried to show my phone at a bar. The bouncer grinned and waved the little flashlight. He wanted the plastic. He said, “We get fakes on phones, too.” I don’t blame him. Smaller spots follow simple rules: if it’s plastic, it’s real enough.

    (For another state’s take—complete with lessons on training both bouncers and DMV clerks—see my North Carolina recap here.)

    The good stuff I felt

    • It’s fast when the reader supports it.
    • Selective sharing is real. Age only, or name only. That’s smart privacy.
    • My phone stayed in my hand. No one swiped it away.
    • Travel felt lighter. One less card to stress about.

    The pain points I hit

    • Patchy support. One lane says yes, the next says no.
    • Staff training. People are kind, but not everyone knows the flow.
    • Battery anxiety. I carried a tiny power bank. Silly, but I did.
    • Backup drama. If you lose your phone, the recovery steps can feel long.

    A tiny privacy chat (promise, tiny)

    Face scans and liveness checks can feel weird. Some systems, like Login.gov, skip them. Others, like ID.me in selfie mode, still ask. I like choice. Give me clear consent screens. Tell me what gets kept. Say how long. I’ll still say yes, most days—but I want the facts. If you want a deeper dive into how open standards like OpenID underpin these flows, check out this concise guide.

    That mindset carries over to our most personal chats, too: negotiating consent, limiting the data trail, and understanding the tech settings before you hit send. Anyone looking for a practical primer on keeping intimate messages both fun and secure should explore the comprehensive Sexting Guide — it walks you through boundaries, consent language, privacy tools, and modern etiquette so your private moments stay truly private.

    While tinkering with those same privacy tools, I also noticed how the “prove just enough” idea is creeping into the adult-services scene. Several independent providers in college towns now ask newcomers to flash a limited digital credential—age plus a selfie—before they’ll book. If you scroll through the well-trafficked College Park listings on Listcrawler, you can see that trend in action, with ads that spell out exactly what verification they need and why it keeps both parties safer and appointments smoother.

    What surprised me

    • I trusted QR codes more than I thought. They’re simple. They ask before sharing.
    • People are the bottleneck, not the tech. Training and policy matter.
    • Physical IDs aren’t going away. And maybe that’s fine. Belts and suspenders.

    My wishlist for 2028

    • One clear rulebook per country. Not twenty.

  • I Tried Michigan Digital ID For a Month: Here’s How It Actually Feels

    I’m Kayla, and I’m clumsy with my wallet. Cards fall. Receipts fly. So when Michigan rolled out a digital way to log in and prove who I am for state stuff, I jumped on it. I used it for a full month. Little things. Big things. Some wonky things. You know what? It mostly works.

    Let me explain.

    So…what is “Michigan Digital ID,” really?

    For me, it’s the MiLogin account that ties into a bunch of Michigan state sites. Think the Secretary of State (for tabs and licenses), the DNR (for fishing and parks), and Treasury (tax stuff). It’s your digital identity for state services.

    If you’re curious about the open standards that make secure single sign-on possible, the plain-language guide at OpenID Book is a quick, free read.

    One key point: it’s not a full phone version of your driver’s license yet. I still can’t tap my phone at a bar or at TSA at DTW and skip the plastic card. I tried. They still asked for the physical ID. Neighbors are hitting the same wall—when a Chicago-based tester tried Illinois’ digital ID (ILogin), they also had to keep the card handy for in-person checks.

    I wish that part existed. But the sign-in and verify-me part online is real, and I used it a lot.

    Setup: Easy…until it wasn’t

    I made my MiLogin on my couch in Grand Rapids. It took about 10 minutes.

    • It asked for my name, email, phone, and some ID info.
    • I turned on two-factor. That’s the text code that pings your phone. Safer, but also one more step.
    • Then I linked my Secretary of State profile. Here I hit my first snag: my middle initial. I had it on one page and not the other. It kicked back an error. I fixed it, and it matched.

    Little tip: make sure your name and address match what’s on your license. One extra space can mess things up. Silly, but true.

    Real things I did with it

    I didn’t want to “test” it in a lab way. I used it like a normal week in Michigan.

    • Rainy Sunday night, 11:30 p.m.: I renewed my plate tabs for my old Ford Escape. Two text codes came through. I paid. Got the email right away. Tabs came in the mail a bit later. No line. No small talk. Just me and my sleepy dog. My friend in Toledo had a near-clone experience when she tested Ohio’s digital-ID rollout—minus the dog.

    • Moving day cleanup: I changed my address online after I moved to Eastown. It asked me to confirm past addresses. That part felt nosy, but it’s for security. My new license arrived without me stepping in a branch.

    • Spring fishing itch: I bought my annual fishing license on the DNR site with the same login. Printed the little slip for my tackle box. I also saved a PDF in my phone, just in case it rains…which it did.

    • Tax season nerves: I checked my Michigan refund status. I also pulled a 1099-G from last year. It’s not fun. But it was fast.

    And then the in-person test: I tried to show my “digital ID” at Meijer when I grabbed a bottle of rosé for a cookout. The cashier was nice, but she shook her head. “Plastic, please.” Okay. Fair.

    I also asked a bouncer at Founders if a phone ID would work. He laughed and said not yet. So yeah, keep your card on you. And if you’re curious how well phone-only ID flies with TSA, this reviewer took digital ID for a spin at the airport—short answer: it’s getting there, but pack the plastic.

    Day-to-day feel

    It’s simple when it’s simple. But if you lock yourself out, the site has a hold timer. I got locked out once after fat-fingering my password on a tiny screen. I had to wait 15 minutes. I made tea. I came back. It worked.

    The look of the site is clean in some spots and a bit dated in others. That mix is fine, but it can feel like you stepped from 2025 into 2012 and back again. Function over flash, I guess.

    Security stuff (in plain talk)

    • Two-factor texts: do it. It’s one extra tap, but it helps a lot.
    • Authenticator app: I switched to this after week two. It’s faster than waiting for texts, and it worked even when my cell bars dropped near the lake.
    • Timeouts: the site logs out if you leave it open. Annoying, but safer.
    • Data checks: sometimes it asks those “which of these streets have you lived on” questions. They’re odd, but normal.

    If you’d like the nerd-level details on how Michigan hardened MiLogin with FIDO standards, an Identity Week write-up breaks it down in plain English.

    Just for fun, if you want to see the total opposite of government-verified identity—where anonymity and playful screen names rule the day—take a peek at this Kik Sluts directory where you can browse no-strings, pseudonymous Kik usernames and experience how friction-free chatting looks when privacy and flirting trump paperwork. Similarly, if you’re curious about how lightly regulated classified ads handle identity—often relying on burner numbers and screen names—spend a minute exploring the West-Coast escort board at Listcrawler Davis where you can see firsthand how convenience and anonymity trade places with verification and accountability.

    What I liked

    • One login for many state tasks. Tabs, address, fishing, tax. Less hunting for passwords.
    • Two-factor that actually works. Text or app codes both did the job.
    • Clear receipts and emails. I could search my inbox and find proof in seconds.
    • Late-night access. I did most things after the kids went to sleep. No lines. No hold music.

    What bugged me

    • Still need the physical ID for bars, stores, and flights. I hoped for phone-only. Not there yet.
    • Name-matching errors. If you have a hyphen or a middle initial, be careful.
    • Lockouts after a few wrong tries. I get it, but still a pain.
    • Weekend maintenance once. Sunday morning I saw a “service not available” banner. Coffee had to wait.

    Little tips that saved me time

    • Set it up before you need it. Don’t do this five minutes before your tabs expire.
    • Use an authenticator app. Faster than SMS, especially Up North where service drops.
    • Match your info to your license. Middle initials, apartment numbers, all of it.
    • Add a backup email. If you lose your phone, you’ll be glad.
    • Screenshot your confirmation page. I toss it into a notes folder. Easy to find later.

    Who will love this

    • Busy folks who hate lines at the Secretary of State.
    • Campers and anglers who buy DNR stuff each year.
    • Anyone who wants clean records for taxes and payments.

    Who might grumble

    • People who want a true phone driver’s license right now. It’s not live for bars or TSA.
    • Folks who change phones often. Re-adding two-factor takes a minute.

    My bottom line

    Michigan’s digital ID (through MiLogin) makes state chores faster. It cut my time, cut my stress, and saved me a drive. I still carry my plastic license, because I have to. But for renewals and records, the digital side is my first stop now.

    Would I keep using it? Yep. I already am.

    If Michigan adds a real phone license that works at stores and airports, I’ll be first in line. Until then, this is a solid step. I’d give it a 4 out of 5—useful, a little fussy, and very worth it. Want a peek at how seamless it could feel in a few years? A playful future diary called “My Week With Digital ID by 2028” imagines the fully card-free life.

    You can also read the full annotated version of this test run on OpenID Book right here.