I Don’t Have My ID With Me

I’m doing dishes, dishes, dishes, it’s 1am, been a busy night. Behind me, I hear a guy exclaim, I need some drinks! I look over, in two seconds I asses the situation. He’s drunk, looks young. I go to him, he says, I need another Gimlet, and a Captain and Coke. I say, great!  Could I see your ID please? He’s got his wallet in his hands, he says, oh. Ok. He opens his wallet, looks in it, says, uh…you know, I don’t have it with me.

Here’s the problemo. He’s got the kind of wallet that has a window for his ID on the front of it. Another problemo. There’s a driver’s license in the window.

I say, ok. I grab the wallet from his hands, go over to the light above the taps, look at the ID. It says, 12/27/1994. Underage. I turn back to him, hand him back his wallet, then say, walk out that door, please. He looks down at his wallet, he knows he’s been busted. He turns away from me, stops, turns back around, then says,

Can I get my coat from my table?

I think for a sec, then say,

Yes. You can get your coat.

-Clint Curtis

underage

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