I can just about tolerate being asked if I'm old enough to drink (oh, don't be so bloody stupid, look at me!) and I get mildly offended if I have to prove it by showing some form of identification (no, I never carry it; you'll just have to believe that I'm the same guy you've been serving here six nights a week for the last year), but I draw the line absolutely at being rubber-stamped. I will not let it happen and I recommend to everyone that you resist too. You could develop some awful skin complaint that could make you unable to drink at that bar ever again. What is this, 1984? What next, barcoding? No pun intended.
Other responses that have worked for me in the recent past, when ID has been demanded: "No, thank you. I'll have a gin and tonic WITH LEMON." It works, but I think that it has something to do with my commitment to having that gin and tonic being far greater than the bar person's commitment to believing that I am underage.
Yes, it's very clear that I'm stubborn, bloody-minded and intransigent. Er... that just about sums me up. Cheers!
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1 comment:
Right on Mark. They need to come up with a better method. I know they are doing it for a good reason, and well, the stamp is simply the cheapest solution.
That bar, cheap? Never.
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