An Ale Of A Tale

(I’m at the grocery store with a small number of items. This particular grocery store asks that all alcohol be placed at the end of your items. I don’t have any alcohol, but I do have a six-pack of ginger beer, which happens to be at the end of my order. Please note, if you’re not familiar with ginger beer, that it’s not actually beer. It’s a soda that’s simply very gingery, but it’s not beer, just like ginger ale is not ale.)

Cashier: “Can I see your ID, please?”

Me: *not really paying attention* “Huh?”

Cashier: “Your ID, please.”

Me: “Oh. Wait, why?”

Cashier: “For your beer.”

Me: “I’m not buying beer, though?”

(The cashier points to my ginger beer.)

Me: “Oh! Sorry. That’s just ginger beer.”

Cashier: “Yes, and I need your ID.”

Me: “But why?”

Cashier: *sighs* “It’s the law, I have to ID everyone for alcohol.”

Me: “But it’s not alcohol!”

Cashier: “It’s beer!”

Me: “It’s ginger beer. Not beer.”

Cashier: *sighs again* “[Manager], could you come here?”

(The manager is at the next lane and comes right over.)

Cashier: “This lady is buying beer but doesn’t understand that she needs to show her ID.”

Me: “It’s not beer!”

Manager: *lifts up the six-pack* “That’s not beer; it’s ginger beer. It’s not alcoholic. She’s fine.

(Neither the cashier nor I made eye contact as I paid and hurried out of there.)