Another Bella Seizure« an older post
a newer one »Bunch of whiners.

May I see your ID?


I went to the grocery store today to buy fondue makings (cheese fondue makings, to be exact, for a dinner party Keith and Katie were giving with Christina and Wade). I went to Whole Foods in particular because the recipe I had selected included some bizarre cheeses I had never heard of, and Whole Foods has a great cheese selection (no kirsch, but lots of cheese). While there, I picked up all the ingredients, including some tasty wine.

Pretty much the only time I purchase alcohol these days is for cooking or for someone else (like when I'm having a party and I know someone wants beer). Which is probably the main reason why I was confused when the cashier asked, "May I see your ID?"

My first reactions was, of course, "Pardon?"

"May I see your ID?"

"My ID?"

"Yes, your ID."



"Yes, why?"

At this point, I'm holding out my credit card, having already run it through the POS (that's point-of-sale, not piece-of-shit (another handy acronym I use frequently)) box. I was quite confused, as cashiers rarely confirm my signature on the back of my card, even when they say, "SEE DRIVER'S LICENSE" on the back of them. And this card was even signed, so there was even less reason to ask for my ID, couldn't she just look at the back of my credit card?

"For the wine."



I quickly apologized and pulled out my license. I haven't been that embarrassed in front of a 20 year-old in a long, long time.