With my intra-office beer debt having grown to 26 bottles, I headed over to the local convenience store with plans to make things square. After carrying two 20-packs up to the cashier, the following transpired:
Cashier: "Thirsty, huh?"
Me: "Fortunately, it's not all for me."
Cashier: [Takes my debit card and gives me the evil eye.] "You're 21, right?"
Me: [Thinking it's been a while since I was carded--although I did shave last night.] "29."
Cashier: [Swiping my card.] "Yeah, I saw your gray hair and figured you were. Just checking."
Me: [Awkward pause.] "Hmmm. Well, at least it's not falling out."
Cashier: [Handing me my card and the receipt.] "Yeah, and I actually like gray hair."
Me: [Another awkward pause as I try to figure out if this is all just a bizarre pick-up line.] "Yeah, uh, thanks."
3 comments:
Grey hair, but no beer gut. Watch out...the next thing you know you'll be over 30!
Love,
Mom
How is that 29? I'm less than a week away from it myself.
29 is fine. I'm worried about that big 3-0 I'm closing in on...
Post a Comment