We grabbed a seat on the "oh so hip" deck and ordered cocktails. I felt great, right up until the moment the waitress moved to take the order from the table next to us and asked to see the patrons ID's when they ordered their cocktails. Not 30 seconds earlier I ordered a drink and this same waitress didn't so much as blink. No request to prove I was of age for such an order. Not even a second glance in my direction to confirm I was a dinosaur.
Yes, this is childish. Yes, this is vain. But damn if I wouldn't like for someone besides a police officer pulling me over for speeding to just once ask me again for my ID. Even in bars that visibly display signs declaring, "WE CARD EVERYONE," I get no request to view that lovely DMV photo that we all style our hair for.
And so, I feel old! Is it wrong to miss the days I carried around an ID of someone five years older than me just to get into a nightclub or buy a bottle of vodka at the ABC Store. Funny how you work so hard at being older when you are young, and then wish for the days someone made you recite the address on that fake ID (which I can still quote without a fault to this day thank you very much!).
So my pretty license picture will continue to sit in the wallet until I decide to get a ticket for going 85 in a 60, fine. But I'll promise you this, next time I have to sit for two hours at the DMV for a new license photo, there will be no styling of this hair! You can have the unbrushed poney tail from now on folks!