“May I see some identification, please?” asked the Super Wally World cashier.
“Excuse me?” (I genuinely didn’t hear what she had asked).
She held up the bottle of chardonnay. “Your I.D. I need to see it.”
I’m not sure if I smiled or smirked, but I did say “sure” and fished my Wisconsin driver’s license from my wallet. It took the middle-aged blonde in the blue smock a moment to locate my birth date and then key it in, but soon she fumbled with the computer keys and handed back the license. “I bet I just made your day, huh?”
Truly, she did. My guess is that we were about the same age.
I’m fairly certain I haven’t been carded in over 20 years. I forgot anyone ever got carded for buying alcohol. And I certainly haven’t been mistaken for a girl under the age of 21, particularly since I’ve given birth. Did I mention my 12-year old daughter was with me at the time?
Which reminds me, the other night when accompanied by both our 12 and 14-year-olds, we were out to dinner at a local restaurant. Willow, 14, ordered a piña colada, which she found on the specialty drink menu. To this request, the waitress asked whether or not she wanted it with alcohol.
“She’s fourteen,” I said.
“Don’t you know that minors are allowed to order alcoholic beverages with their parents’ approval?”
No, we didn’t know that. But according to an article in the New York Times, “Minors can drink alcohol in a bar or restaurant in Wisconsin if they are accompanied by a parent or legal guardian who gives consent. While there is no state law setting a minimum age, bartenders can use their discretion in deciding whom to serve.”
I’m sorry, but I think that’s just wrong. Card me any day of the week and that’s fine; however, don’t offer my children alcohol—even when they’re 27 years beyond the legal drinking age.