A Gross Grocery Error

(I live in England, but when I speak it’s clear I’m Irish and not English. I also look young for my age – I am aware of this but there isn’t an awful lot I can actually do about it. This was a grocery delivery to my home, in the middle of the day when people ‘underage’ are supposed to be in school and not answering their front doors.)

Me: “Hi! Could you just leave it there and I’ll bring it in myself…”

Delivery Guy: “Uh, are your parents in?”

Me: “Wait… what?”

Delivery Guy: “Are your parents in? I need someone over the age of 18 to be in the house…”

(If he’d asked for ID, I would have given him ID. At no point did he ask for proof of my age.)

Me: “Maybe? I don’t know, though, because they live the other side of the bloody Irish Sea. I can give you their number if you want to ring them up and check, though.”

Delivery Guy: *looking like a deer caught in headlights* “Uh… here’s your groceries.”