I was feeling a little nostalgic as I walked into my old liquor store the other day. I've always been an admirer because they have a huge wall of half-priced wines and the place is called Big Top Liquors, which is an incredible name for a liquor store. But mostly I felt nostalgic because it's the place I frequented in my early alcohol-purchasing days.
On weekends they have a police officer stationed at the entrance to card people as they enter. I've pretty much always been at that awkward—are they or aren't they going to card me?—stage. Like a few weeks after I turned 21 and I really, really just couldn't make up my mind and by the time I had, I had mistakenly put my id back in my wallet. "Whoops!" I said reaching for my purse. "I just put my id away."
"That's okay," the somewhere between 25- and 28-year-old waiter (it was soooo long ago) said, "that won't be necessary." He laughed and waved the idea away as if it was nonsense. He laughed at me for thinking I would get carded. A few weeks after turning 21.
I did not like how that felt.
Since then I've always simply had my card at the ready. Just sort of there, passively lingering in the outskirts of their peripheral: if they so desire, they may reach for it; if not, I try and console myself with the lie everyone tells me—when I'm 50 everyone will be SHOCKED that I'm 50. (Perhaps you're shocked to discover that this isn't even remotely comforting to a 30-year-old.)
Anyways, so walking into Big Top, there he was—a police officer stationed to card patrons as they entered. He didn't look directly at me but I slowed and lazily reached for my wallet just in case. When his eyes met mine, I asked him, "Are you carding people at the door?"
He looked at me not with respect. Not with amusement. It wasn't even confusion. The guy looked at me with disgust.
"People who look like they're under 21," he shot back as if he was utterly confounded at my question.
Disgust, people. The guy looked at me with disgust.
And just in case you're new to this blog and haven't had a chance to explore the myriad of photos I post of myself... I look like this:
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| A face that elicits disgust from law enforcement. Apparently 75 years old. |
I HATED looking younger than my age. It messes with your self-esteem, self-worth and no one takes you seriously. (Maybe that was just my older sister.)
ReplyDeleteNow, not so much.
When I was getting a pedicure on the morning of my law school graduation, the pedicurist asked me what high school I was graduating from and insisted I was lying when I said I 25. Four years later (just a month ago), a process server (I was accepting service on behalf of a client) describe me in her notes as "35+". I consoled myself with the idea that she was just an idiot until two weeks ago at the Clinique make-up counter the girl selling me foundation said, "I'm so glad you stopped by. Lots of people have the misconception that Clinique is just for young people." The past few years haven't been very good to me.
ReplyDeleteBrittany, you win. A hundred times over.
DeleteOne time I forgot my ID but I was dressed up nice in the three button suit, so I just ordered a gin gimlet like I meant it. You could tell she wanted to card me, being I was only 23, but didn't want to offend me. It was awkward and beautiful and I got my gin gimlet.
ReplyDeleteAt Sam's Club Liquor, I gave the clerk my ID and he said, "Honey, your days of being carded are OVER."
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a bouncer in Ireland I decided to be all charming and card everyone coming in and tell them how they didnt look a day over 21, these very clearly aged ladies came in for a drink and as a carded them they offloaded a verbal barrage that would have made a sailor turn red.
ReplyDeleteAfter that I stopped.