I’m 29 years old, which is by no means old, right?  Though I am at that age now where sometimes I get carded and sometimes I don’t.  In general, I assume that I won’t, because I think it’s pretty clear that I’m by no means under 21, but still, I get carded about 55% of the time.  Including the time when I went to buy wine a couple weeks ago.  I was carded by the girl at the checkout.  Fine.  A few days ago, wine was, again, on my shopping list.  (I am, apparently, something of a wine drinker these days.)  And, as I had been carded the last time, I pulled out my ID along with my card, ready to present it.  At which point, the guy behind the counter laughed at me and said, "You’re playing with me, right?"  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!  I mean, don’t card me: fine.  Say, "That’s okay, ma’am, I don’t need to see your ID.": Fine.  But laugh in my face as if I’m such a decrepit old hag that the thought I might be carded is utterly preposterous: I will destroy you.  I’m not a complain-about-low-paid-people-in-a-service-industry type of person, but this REALLY rubbed me the wrong way.  So I emailed the store and told them their super polite, squeaky clean exterior got a big ol’ dent in it for me the other day.  The manager asked me to approach him the next time I come in so that he can apologize in person.  I’m not particularly interested in having that conversation - I don’t particularly need some guy trying to get me to identify the kid I saw for 3 minutes a couple weeks ago.  Although there’s a part of me that wants to let him see me so that he can see that I’m a cardable person.

I have a feeling my 30th birthday isn’t going to be pretty.