Putting Them In Low Spirits

(My sister asks me to lunch in an upscale restaurant that I’ve never been to before. We’re both in our 30s, but I look very young, and I have no makeup on and my hair is in a messy bun. My sister looks older, very made up, and hair styled.)

Waiter: “Good afternoon. What would you like to order to drink?”

Me: “This [alcoholic drink] sounds good. I’ll have that.”

Sister: “Me, too!”

Waiter: “May I see your IDs, please?”

(We fish them out and hand them over, the waiter gives mine back with a doubtful frown at my face. He gets the drinks and brings them over. We sip.)

Me: “So good!”

Sister: “I agree.”

Me: “But I can’t taste any alcohol…”

(I tried her drink, and noticed it had a lot more alcohol in it than mine. We figured the waiter thought I had a fake ID, didn’t want to call me out on it, and didn’t put any alcohol in mine. It still tasted good, so I didn’t complain. We laughed about it for hours after.)