Oh, for an ageless identity
I have just been asked for ID while attempting to buy a bottle of red wine.
I entered the shop, and asked the assistant for a bottle of red wine, European, that would go with a vegetarian meal so nothing too challenging, costing £6-10.
The assistant duly brushed the dust off an tempting-looking bottle of French red, then, as he approached the till, said: "Do you have any ID?"
"I'm 26!" was my crestfallen reply.
And it's true, I am 26, nearer to 27 than 25, and beyond the age when I should have to carry ID in order to buy alcohol. I may not look 26, but I certainly don't look 17. And I'm fed up of saying "Ah well, I'll be grateful when I'm 30." Grateful for what? Looking like a spotty wretched uneducated contributingnothingtosociety teenager?
And do I have the air of someone who is part way through their A-levels, rather than someone who has two degrees, one enagagement and a number of bereavements under their belt (my pants being where I keep such things)?
I have now been ID'd three times this year; in a pub in early Spring, in a supermarket on my way to Bestival and now in a quite-posh off licence in the City.
And I'm getting increasingly angry about it.
Any advice, Toller?
I entered the shop, and asked the assistant for a bottle of red wine, European, that would go with a vegetarian meal so nothing too challenging, costing £6-10.
The assistant duly brushed the dust off an tempting-looking bottle of French red, then, as he approached the till, said: "Do you have any ID?"
"I'm 26!" was my crestfallen reply.
And it's true, I am 26, nearer to 27 than 25, and beyond the age when I should have to carry ID in order to buy alcohol. I may not look 26, but I certainly don't look 17. And I'm fed up of saying "Ah well, I'll be grateful when I'm 30." Grateful for what? Looking like a spotty wretched uneducated contributingnothingtosociety teenager?
And do I have the air of someone who is part way through their A-levels, rather than someone who has two degrees, one enagagement and a number of bereavements under their belt (my pants being where I keep such things)?
I have now been ID'd three times this year; in a pub in early Spring, in a supermarket on my way to Bestival and now in a quite-posh off licence in the City.
And I'm getting increasingly angry about it.
Any advice, Toller?