It was downpouring in Dublin and I made my way into the bar soaking wet. I asked the bartender for whatever beer had the highest alcohol content. He looked at me skeptically and asked me for my government identification. I gave it to him, three years over the legal drinking age in Ireland. He said the highest percentage beer he had was Rochefort 10, 11.2% alcohol. I said great. He asked me, warning really, if I was sure and I said absolutely.
It was a late night in Brooklyn coming home from a shift at the bar. I stopped into a bodega to grab a can of good beer (to unwind with while I read before bed). I handed the bodega guy my beer and a bag of chips and he looked at me skeptically. He asked for my government identification and I laughed in disbelief. I handed him my license, ten years over the legal drinking age in the United States. I told him I was thirty-one and he looked at me funny, then looked at my ID, and laughed too. I paid and said thank you.
It was early in the morning after a night with an Australian Army-man. We woke in my bed and at some point he asked me about my birthday. I gave the date then stared the year, 19-- He stopped me. You were born in the nineteen-hundreds?? Evidently, I had not realized he was a twenty-first century man. He had some cute wrinkles that had yet to develop on my face.
It was a pleasant afternoon in upstate New York. My sister and I went shopping for some furniture at the Habitat For Humanity Resale Store (great spot, would recommend). We made our selections and my sister brought her car around for the nice guy working there to help us load. He made a comment to me about my mom. And I was like, what? When I told him she was my older sister (only by two years), the horror on his face created a new emotion in me. He had gotten my sister’s age correct, but had mistaken me, a woman of the nineteen-hundreds, for a sixteen-year-old girl.
Most people will tell you it’s a good thing to look younger than you are (especially if you’re a woman). Though I wonder if a business man with fifteen years of experience would appreciate being spoken to like an intern only because his face does not show time spent in the sun.