Last Sunday night Ilene & I went out to a restaurant on the beach, for a few drinks and a relaxing dinner. We arrived around dinner time and wanted the seats on the water so we knew we'd have to wait a while. Not a problem, I actually prefer when we have to wait, it means we get to sit at the bar!
So we walk over to the bar and everything is wet and sticky, not to sound like a snob but it was pretty disgusting.. (Luckily I had my travel size disinfectant spray with me....pssh, don't judge me) So once the place is germ free we take a seat and after what seemed like forever I place my order: 1 champagne split. (take note, I said a champagne split not hard liquor shots) He asks to see my I.D., which I already have out, so I hand it to him.
He looks at the I.D., then he looks at me, then back at the I.D., then back at me...and back at the I.D. and then back at me. You get the picture, right? So he asks me whose I.D. I'm using and I told him it was mine. Which he scoffs at, then asks me for a second form of I.D. and I pull out my credit card, which lucky for me still has my maiden name on it. *insert eye roll*
So he calls his manager over and they start questioning me on why there are two different last names and I explained to them that I got married, my name changed and I simply had not got a new credit card. To which the bartender responded with "Oh yeah? If you're married then how come you're not wearing a ring?" So rude! "Its complicated." That's all I said. Fuck that! I am not going to explain myself to some punk bartender on a power trip.
They're being pretty loud so others can hear them and people are starting to stare. They keep questioning me and my friend and at this point I'm pretty sure they're going to call the cops. Which is fine, whatever. I'm not breaking any laws so I'm not scared or anything, but it would be pretty damn inconvenient. So I'm about to just leave and the manager says, OK, we'll accept it this time, but we have to be extra careful since its Spring Break.
Guess who finally got her champagne?! That's right, this girl! So we make a toast and our awesome night commences, but damn they made me work for it.
I wish I could say that was the only time I've been harassed like that, but unfortunately this sort of thing happens all the time.
On my 24th birthday I went into a gas station to buy a lighter and I was interrogated for five straight minutes.
She asked me where I got the I.D., she quizzed me on the address and my DOB, asked if it was a fake, then asked me if I was sure it was mine. Then she started talking out loud, to no one in particular. "They get younger and younger looking every year."
Seriously? Its a fricken lighter! You only have to be 18 to get one! Story of my life, but I guess I shouldn't complain. One day I might miss being carded...
#firstworldproblems #foreveryoung #babyface
XOXO
Shelly M.
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