(In Alberta, it’s illegal to be in a liquor store without your ID, regardless of age, unless you’re accompanied by a parent or guardian. Most people use their driver’s licence as ID, and it’s illegal to drive without it. Breaking either law warrants a steep fine. The store I work at checks the ID of anyone who appears to be under 25. I’ve only been on shift for an hour, but I’ve already had to turn away six people who have been unable to show me their ID, and I’m starting to get frustrated.)

Me: “Could I see your ID, please?”

Customer: “Uh… I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. I forgot it. But c’mon! You should remember me. I’m here almost every day!”

Me: “I’m sorry; I can’t serve you without ID.”

Customer: “You should remember me! I buy beer here all the time! Don’t I look familiar?”

Me: “Sir, it’s not legal for you to be in here without it. I need to see your ID.”

Customer: “Nah, you don’t, since you remember who I am! If you remember me, I don’t need it. I come in all the time.”

(I’ve had enough. I cover my nametag with my hand.)

Me: “Sir, I’ll sell you your beer right now, if you can tell me what my name is.”

Customer: “Uh… I don’t know. I don’t pay attention to nametags. How should I know what your name is?”

Me: “Well, if you’re in here all the time, then you must remember me, right? Look: I’ve served about 100 customers per day, five days per week, for the last eight years. I don’t remember most of them. If you don’t have your ID, you need to leave.”

Customer: “FINE!”

(He proceeded to get in his vehicle and peel off, presumably without his licence. I hope the cops pulled him over for speeding and driving without a licence!)

Related:

No ID, No Idea, Part 32
No ID, No Idea, Part 31
No ID, No Idea, Part 30

(Our policy is to ID under 40 for all purchases, so I check nearly every customer’s ID.)

Me: “Could I see a piece of photo ID, please?”

Customer: “Uh, I guess so.”

(She shows me her ID through the pocket in her wallet, but the photo is obscured.)

Me: “I’m sorry; could you please take your ID out of your wallet? I can’t see your face.”

Customer: “I really don’t understand why you need to see the photo. You can see the date.”

Me: “Well, the photo helps me verify that the ID belongs to you.”

Customer: “I still don’t understand, but whatever.”

(We finish the transaction and she leaves.)

Coworker: “Did she really just ask why you needed to see the photo on her photo ID?“

(Here in Minnesota we have strict liquor laws concerning selling anything other than 3.2 beer after 10:00 pm. If anyone sells alcohol past that time, both the cashier and the business get a very hefty fine. Imagine my grim surprise when, two minutes after closing, the door opens and a woman rushes in.)

Customer: “I know you’re closed, but I just got off the phone with the woman in charge. She said I could buy alcohol as long as it’s five minutes after.”

Me: “You talked to my boss?”

Customer: “Yes.”

(Thankfully, since my boss is cool, and I work in a small town liquor store, I’m allowed to be rude to fools.)

Me: *laughs* “You heard wrong.”

Customer: “She totally told me that. Where is she?”

Me: “She’s been gone for six hours; it’s just me here. But what is it you wanted?”

Customer: “I told her I was just going to get a pint of [Cognac].”

Me: *laughs even harder* “Ma’am, we’ve been out of [Cognac] for weeks. Well, I do have 1.75L of it left, but if you really need it that bad, it’ll cost $20,046.”

Customer: “What?! Why is it so expensive?!”

Me: “Because of all the fines we’ll receive for selling after ten o’clock, plus a little extra for me so I can find myself a new job after I sell it to you.”

Customer: *getting defensive* “Well, you don’t have to get hostile. I’ll call her back and get you fired, anyway!”

Me: *shrugs* “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

(She angrily left, and I called my boss. Obviously, she never got a phone call from someone about coming in late. After a bit of speculation and calling around, we discovered that there was a new girl working two miles down the road at a separate liquor store, who answered the call. I saved her a massive fine.)

(It’s legal to purchase alcohol from the age of 18 in the UK. I am at my local liquor store purchasing a few drinks for a party later on that evening. I’m at the counter, which is being manned by a woman I’ve never seen before.)

Cashier: “Can I see your ID, please?”

Me: *hands over ID*

Cashier: “I can’t sell you these.”

Me: “Why not?”

Cashier: “This ID says you were born in 1989. That means you’re too young.”

Me: “It’s 2011.”

Cashier: “…”

Me: “I’m 21.”

Cashier: “No. Because you add twenty and take one. That means you’re too young.”

Me: “I… what?”

Cashier: *shrugging* “Kids today don’t know anything.”

Me: “But, you add twenty? Add twenty to what?”

Cashier: “Right, so 1989 add 10 is 1999, then adding another 10 makes it 2009.”

Me: “And then take one?”

Cashier: “From how old you’d be.”

(I take a second to double check what I’ve just calculated, as I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life.)

Me: “That would make me 18.”

Cashier: “Exactly!”

Me: “And still legally allowed to buy alcohol.”

(The woman stared at me for a second before putting on a strange expression, almost like she had shut down. Eventually the owner appeared after several other customers, upon seeing my ID, tried convincing her that I was in fact 21. He put through my purchase and I left swiftly after. The woman doesn’t work there anymore, but now every till has a small whiteboard next to it with whatever date it was 18 years ago and “CAN BUY ALCOHOL IF BIRTHDAY IS BEFORE:” above it.)

Customer: “Do you have Jim Ott Cabernet?”

Me: “I’ve never heard of that before. Let me check the computer.”

Customer: “How can you not know? I just bought it here last week!”

Me: “Sir, we have over 3000 products, just in the wine department. It would be very difficult to have all of those memorized. Anyway, I can’t find anything called Jim Ott. Are you sure that’s the name?”

Customer: “Of course I’m sure! Jim Ott! OTT! I just bought it last week. It was on special!”

Me: *light-bulb moment* “Sir, do you mean Joel Gott?”

Customer: “Yes, that! That’s what I’ve been saying. Why was that so hard?”

Me: “I don’t know, sir.”