Last weekend in America's Dairyland, Mr. Tangerine went to the grocery store to buy me some beer. (I currently need to watch my potassium intake, and if I must avoid a zillion kinds of produce, peanut butter, milk, ice cream, chocolate, nuts, and my beloved hummus, how will I ingest enough calories if I don't have some beer?)
The cashier carded him. He handed over his out-of-state driver's license and the guy handed it back, saying that it had expired. Mr. Tangerine was too befuddled by the absurdity of being a 41-year-old man getting carded—and carded hard—so he did not have the presence of mind to say, "Doofus, turn the license over. There's a renewal sticker on the back. It's valid." He returned to his parents' house, still at a loss.
When he realized the license wasn't expired at all, he went back to the store (it's a block away), grabbed the Negra Modelo again, and showed the cashier the back of the license.
The cashier remained skeptical. The manager was summoned, and apparently the two employees both thought Mr. Tangerine just plain looked too young. Hello! White hairs above the forehead. White hairs in the beard. Valid photo ID attesting to his birthdate.
Maybe they would have believed it if the license said Mr. Tangerine was 23, but 41? Ridiculous! My husband actually had to get pissed off before the store agreed to sell him a six-pack of beer.
Last year, we'd gone out to eat in Florida with our son Ben and Mr. Tangerine's aunt. The waitress carded Mr. Tangerine, but not me. (And I do still get carded on rare occasions myself.) Let us examine the circumstances here: One older adult, plus two younger adults with a child who looks rather like both of them. The child is about 6 years old. If the father needs to be carded, then the waitress presumably thinks he looks no older than 20...meaning he'd have become a father at 14. But me, I looked old enough. So what am I, Mary Kay LeTourneau with my child-husband? Harrumph! And he's months older than I am!
What's your best carding tale?