I never get carded. I mean NEVER. It has always made me feel insecure. Do I look that old? Have I always looked that old? Why am I the only one who never got the thrill of being carded and being able to prove that I was indeed of legal age for the first time? Well, today I got that thrill, nine years late. The old woman at the checkout kindly swiped the beer I was purchasing then asked, “May I see ID?” I’m sure she thought I was completely crazy when I obliged with a smile and responded with a, “Thank you.”
While walking home with my legally purchased alcohol I passed by a bar. Outside, blocking the sidewalk, was a man laying flat on his back. His friends were taking pictures of him with their cell phones. He was on a cell phone as well. He was just fine, minus the excessive amounts of alcohol coursing through his body, for those of you good Samaritans who are worrying at this point. This was quite possibly the worst case of drunk dialing I have ever witnessed.
Little Rants From the Big City 