Experiencing A Tropical Depression

A group of teens, likely eighteen or nineteen, walks up to my bar during spring break.

Customer: “Four long island ice teas!”

This is a common drink for every excited teen-oddler between the ages of eighteen to twenty-point-nine years old who comes down here on spring break, due to its sweet flavor and high alcohol content.

Me: “Can I see some IDs, first?”

Customer: “Uh! This is the US Virgin Islands. Drinking age is eighteen, buddy.”

Me: “Thank you for informing me of where I live, and the law regarding the legal drinking age. I’m so glad you know it too, which is why you brought IDs, yes?”

Customer: “But… we didn’t… it’s eighteen!”

Me: “If you know enough that the drinking age here is lower than where you’re from, why didn’t you make sure you’re able to prove that age? You think just because it’s lower here, you don’t need to show IDs?”

Customer: “But… we…”

Me: “Don’t worry, we have a kiddie’s menu with lots of sweet drinks you’ll love.”

They all leave, defeated. These kids flew here using passports. Why do they never bring them with them to the bar?!