Yesterday I ventured out of the house once again ... this time to go to the liquor store (because it turns out that making vodka sauce without vodka is a tricky business).
For the record, in an attempt not to frighten anyone, I actually thought about what I was wearing before I left. Plain grey t shirt, check. Long hippie skirt, check. Flip flops, check. Unlikely to scare any of my fellow liquor store shoppers. Off I went.
I got the vodka and then thought "You know what's delicious? Lemoncello. I need some. Right now." It took some finding, but I snagged a bottle of that too and went to pay.
The clerk stepped up to the counter and crossed his hands over his chest. He looked at me.
I have never really had the opportunity to say "He gave me the stink-eye" before but this guy? Was giving me the stink eye.
He didn't say a word.
He looked at me.
I looked back at him, with my eyebrows up in puzzlement. I think I may have cocked my head to one side, so as to view the glare more fully. (It was quite the angry glare. On a scale of 1 to 10? Probably a 9.75. He looked MAD.)
I thought, "Dammit! I'm not even WEARING the shirt today!"
"Um," I said. He just looked at me.
"Oh! I said. "Do you want my ID?" I dug it out of my purse and handed it to him. He snatched it up.
He looked at it.
He looked at me.
And then he went from Angry Liquor Store Guy to FRIENDLY Liquor Store guy and said this:
"Oh MAN! I am SORRY!"
And then came this, the best part:
"I didn't think you were old enough to buy alcohol!"
Followed by a "I'm sorry I was being such a jerk! Since colleges are getting out, we get a TON of people in here who aren't old enough to buy but think that they can scam us."
People.
I am 35.
He didn't think I was 21.
I went from being scary lady to potentially criminally minded teenager all in the same week.
For the record? I prefer the latter.
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