A Mommy Story

Tonight Aaron and I were given our “time off for good behavior” pass, and my aunt watched Cordy so we could spend some time at the Dublin Irish Festival sans child. We were free to mingle with other adults, and no one knew we were of the breeder type!

We went to the festival last night as well (with Cordy), but tonight Gaelic Storm was playing, and we knew the loud music combined with a start time after Cordy’s bedtime would result in no fun for any of us, or anyone around us.

The concert was great, but before it started the lady behind the drinks counter was kind enough to smack me in the face with how old I am, or at least how old I look. I swear every word of this conversation is 100% true:

Server: (talking to woman in front of me) Ok, that will be two drink tokens, and I need to see your ID.

Woman: Oh, you need to see my ID? Uh, OK, hold on. (shows ID, server studies it)

Server: Yeah, we’re required to check ID for everyone.

(Woman takes her drink and walks away)

Me: I’d like a black cherry cocktail, please. (I start to take out my wallet to show my ID)

Server: (getting the drink) That will be two drink tokens, please.

Me: (handing her tokens as she turns away) Uh, don’t you need to see my ID? (holding up wallet)

Server: Oh. (not even glancing at ID) Yeah, sure, you’re fine. Next!

Can I say I felt a wee bit offended? Apparently even though they’re required to check ID on everyone, I clearly look too old to bother needing mine checked! I got a good look at the woman in front of me, and I would bet high that she’s older than me. After getting my drink, we proceeded to meet up with a friend and some of her friends, and quizzed each of them on how old they think I look. None said anything higher than 23, so adjusting for being nice (I’d adjust even higher if they were my friends, but most of them I had met for the first time that night), I’d say they thought I looked 25 or 27. Clearly still young enough to be carded, right?

So please, if your job involves any sort of bartending or serving of alcohol, be kind to the women who approach your counter, and ask to see their ID. I don’t care if they’re 60, with grey hair and a walker – ask anyway, and maybe throw in a comment or two about how they don’t look their age at all. It’ll not only flatter them, it’ll help you earn better tips, too.

As for me, I think it’s time for a deep moisturizing skin treatment before bed. Ugh.