Recommended wine for today’s entry: Last night I tried a bottle of Monkey Bay chardonnay with the tuna tetrazzini that took me 2 hours to make. But it made a ton, so when I left it out all night, there was a LOT left to throw away this morning. Figures. And it was edible. But the wine was pretty good and very inexpensive. It’s from New Zealand and the label promised a palate bursting with lively citrus tones, overlayed with ripe tropical and peach characteristics. A little bit fruity if you’re a fan of drier chardonnays, but a good buy at like $8 a bottle. You’ll see why I celebrated and made a real dinner — read on…
You are all going to be really, really, REALLY excited for me. Yesterday was rainy and way unseasonably cold here in Kentucky, but the sun shined on me!
Did I get a literary agent? NO. Did I win the lottery? NO. Did my husband surprise me with a new BMW? NO.
I got carded buying beer!! Yes, I am totally serious. And the cashier didn’t seem to have taken any hallucinogenic drugs or had an eye poked out or anything.
Since my return from yesterday’s grocery trip, I have tried and tried to figure out what may have caused the woman’s confusion. I have a couple theories:
- The unfortunate presence of recent breakouts that were not caused by surging hormones but rather by retreating hormones;
- No self-respecting East End housewife would go out with her hair as totally flat as mine was yesterday;
- I had on my daughter’s trendy North Face jacket, a must for the college crowd;
- I was acting very shifty.
I’m pretty sure option 4 was the trigger. I was acting totally shifty, so I think she may have thought I was pulling a Summer of 42 … you know, the subterfuge condom purchase scene?
I kept looking at the end of the conveyer belt, where my husband’s Sam Adams was, because the woman behind me was grabbing magazines from the shelves and throwing them on the belt at a frantic pace. I was trying to see if she’d put a divider in there, or if I was going to get home and unpack an Enquirer, a Star and three miniature cookbooks chock full of meals made with Kraft mayonnaise.
So maybe I looked guilty.
But even a 20-year-old, desperate for 12 warm Sam Adams Lagers, wouldn’t spend $178 on nonessential items just to hide the beer, would they?
Like I specifically bought the vitamins for women over 50 as a red herring so she’d NEVER suspect that I was a 20-year-old co-ed just trying to score some beer 15 miles from the nearest college campus on a Wednesday morning at 11 a.m.
And how many underage drinkers would buy frozen spinach, sliced mushrooms and egg noodles? I haven’t been on a wild teenage drinking binge lately, but I don’t recall once, in my four years of college, hearing anyone say, “Oh, man, I am wasted. I gotta go get some chopped spinach … OH, man, no. Sliced mushrooms, dude, how good does that sound?”
I had stopped in the handy wine department at the front of the store and purchased a bottle of Monkey Bay (see above), so that was already in my cart. I had stopped in the pharmacy, where I purchased some Claritin-D. I had signed my name on a form entitled Meth-something, which was probably a confession that I was going to go home and explode a meth lab all over my face.
So to this cashier, I guess I looked like a drunk meth-user with a nervous twitch as I watched the beer make its way toward the scanner.
When she said, “Can I see an ID?” I hesitated, because 1) I am old and don’t hear well; and 2) I hate when I eagerly go to pull my wallet out and a waiter – usually a guy – goes, “Oh, I’m just kiddin’ you ma’am.” So I searched her face for signs of cruel intentions. Nothing. Finally, I went, “Well, you certainly may,” because I’m old and I automatically correct those who use “can” instead of “may.”
As I showed her the license, including the picture of me that looks strikingly like Barney Rubble, complete with wide jowls and five-o’clock shadow, I said, “Wow, you just made my day. I’m perilously close to 50!” She looked up at me and went, “Oh, I see what you mean.”
I’m not sure what “Oh, I see what you mean” means but I’m not going to think about it. I’m just going to be happy that I got carded yesterday.
So, my fellow mee-maws, when it’s time to update our Facebook profile pics, I say we meet at Meijer for the photo shoot. The lighting must be perfect!