Not Going To Let That (Mud)Slide

, , , , , , | Right | December 31, 2018

(It is New Year’s Eve. A teenage boy comes up to the register with a few packs of vodka mudshakes.)

Teen: “Just these, thanks.”

Me: “Have you got your ID?”

Teen: “Oh, yeah, it’s just in my car.”

Me: “Sure. I’ll keep these up here while you go and get it.”

Teen: “I don’t want to trouble you.”

Me: “It’s no trouble at all.”

(He wanders around near the entrance for a bit, where I see him talk to a bunch of other teenage boys. He then comes back in.)

Teen: “It looks like someone’s broken into my car and stolen everything, including my ID.”

Me: “Oh, my goodness! You should call the police.”

Teen: “Yeah, I’ll drive straight down to the station from here. So, how much for these?”

Me: “I still need to see your ID.”

Teen: “But someone stole it.”

Me: “I know, and you should call the police right now.”

Teen: “I’m thirty, you know.”

Me: “And as soon as you prove that, you can buy your… mudshakes.”

Teen: “Mudshakes. Right.”

(He leaves the store and goes back to talking with his group of friends. A second teenage boy then walks into the store and stands in one of the wine aisles, pulling faces and scratching his head. He grabs a few random bottles, and then approaches.)

Teen #2: “I would like to purchase these fine wines for my sophisticated dinner party with my work friends tonight.”

 Me: “ID, please.”

(He hands over his learner’s permit, revealing that he is 17.)

Teen #2: “They got my year of birth wrong; I’m really 23.”

Me: “I strongly doubt that.”

Teen #2: “Can I at least buy the mudshakes? They’re basically just chocolate milkshakes.”

Me: “No.”