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Forever Under 21

, , , , | Right | January 29, 2021

In Tennessee, the law states that bars are able to allow smoking inside AS LONG AS they are twenty-one-and-up only establishments. I am working in such a bar as a server, during lunchtime, just after opening at 11:00 am. A woman comes in with her child aged one or two years old.

Me: *To my coworker* “Want me to tell her? She looks like she’s heading to my section anyway.”

Coworker: “Nah, I got it.”

My coworker approaches the lady.

Coworker: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but this is a twenty-one-and-up bar since people are smoking in here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “But I am twenty-one! I just want lunch!”

Coworker: “Maybe, but she isn’t.” *Motioning towards the child*

Customer: “That’s just stupid! I come here all the time with her!

Coworker: “Not to be disrespectful, but none of my coworkers would allow a child inside and risk us all losing our jobs. I’m asking you to leave, now.”

Customer: “Useless b****. I’m never f****** coming here again!”

She storms out, squealing tires and almost hitting a car as she leaves.

Me: *To my coworker* “Well, that was… interesting.”

Coworker: “Yeah. I’ve only seen her once before. She tried to order alcohol while heavily pregnant. I told her I wasn’t comfortable with that and she said the same thing to me.”

By the way, there was a HUGE sign on our door, at eye level, that says, “Patrons must be 21 or older and able to show ID to enter.” So much for reading, I guess?

About To Be Rum-Punched Back To Reality

, , , , , , | Right | January 21, 2021

I’m standing in line at my local liquor store and see three young lads attempting to buy a carton of rum. 

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but I can’t sell this to you without seeing some form of ID.”

Customer #1: “Oh, yeah, sure.”

The customer hands over his license.

Cashier: “This says you’re only sixteen. I can’t sell you alcohol.”

Customer #1: “Oh, it’s just old. Can’t you accept it?”

Cashier: “Doesn’t matter how old it is; your birthday never changes.”

Customer #1: “All right, I got another way.”

He takes out his mobile phone and begins tapping, and then he holds it up to the cashier.

Customer #1: “See? It says you must be over eighteen to access this website. I hit this, and I’m in! I must be over eighteen!”

Cashier: “That doesn’t tell me your age. It just says to me that you know how to access an adult website. You need to leave now.”

The kids seemed really disappointed and left at that point.

Rated R You Serious?, Part 3

, , , , , | Right | October 2, 2020

I’m selling tickets on a fairly busy Saturday night. A group of five teens comes up to me and all purchase their tickets separately for an R-rated movie. I am one of the sticklers for checking ID, unlike some of the other employees and managers. I get to the third boy in line.

Me: “And if I can just see your ID, please.”

Teen: “Why do you need my ID?”

Me: “Because the movie is rated R. It’s federal law that I check it or you be accompanied by an adult over twenty-one.”

Teen: “Well, I don’t have it.”

Me: “Well, I’m terribly sorry, but we have a strict ‘No ID, no sale’ policy here.”

By now, the boys around him are groaning and looking irritated, oddly enough, at him. The boy looks away, huffs, and then grins like he has a million-dollar idea.

Teen: *Badly flirting* “Come on, you won’t lose your job. Do it, just for me? Come on!”

Me: “As I said before, no ID, no sale. Come back with a valid state-issued driver’s license and I’ll sell you the ticket.”

Teen: “Seriously?!”

The group wanders off for about ten minutes while I furiously deal with the line they caused. The boys then come back, and the obviously underage one shoves a plain card in my face; in the second he has it there, I read, “fishing license,” and note that it has no picture.

Teen: “There! That has my birthday on it! Now sell me the ticket.”

Me: “Sorry. I still can’t. I don’t know if that actually belongs to you because it has no picture and I said driver’s license. That could be someone else’s, for all I know.”


I’m stressed and agitated, and I do something I have never done in the six years I’ve been in retail: snap back.

Me: *Leaning over the computer* “Look! No amount of yelling is going to get me to sell you the ticket, okay?! Bring. Back. Your. License. And I will sell you the ticket. It’s rated R for a reason.”

Teen: “WHATEVER! Have an awful day! Just whatever.”

Rated R You Serious?, Part 2
Rated R You Serious?

Body-Shaming Adults Is So 2005

, , , , , | Related | September 29, 2020

My mother-in-law calls me one afternoon shortly after my first child is born. I am exhausted and just want to sleep but I know if I don’t answer, she will either keep calling or come over.

Me: *Heavy sigh* “Hello?”

Mother-In-Law: “Do you really think it’s appropriate to show off your body like that?”

Me: *Looking down at my post-baby body* “What?”

Mother-In-Law: “The video you posted yesterday on [Social Media #1].”

My husband and I did a time-lapse video of my body changing week to week. I start at one end of our living room and move toward the couch wearing different sports bras and yoga pants each week. This means my growing bump is front and center. At the end, I’m passed out on the couch wearing a tank top and sweatpants with my baby sleeping on my chest.

Me: *Sigh* “[Mother-In-Law], I’m very tired. Can you please get to the point?”

Mother-In-Law: “I don’t think it’s appropriate to show your body like that. There are perverts everywhere.”

Me: “My page is private. If one of my friends gets off on my stretch marks, that’s not my problem, nor is it your business.”

Mother-In-Law: *Tuts* “Disgusting. I wonder how your son is going to feel when he grows up and sees that.”

Me: “He’ll be embarrassed by his mother, like all kids. If that’s all—”

Mother-In-Law: “You need to take that down.”

Me: “No.”

Mother-In-Law: “Take it down!”

I hang up and turn off my ringer. She calls three times over the next hour, but I don’t answer. The next morning, she walks in the front door, not even bothering to knock.

Husband: “Mom?”

Mother-In-Law: “Look, I was polite yesterday—”

Me: “No, you weren’t.”

Husband: “What is going on?”

Mother-In-Law:She is attracting the wrong kind of attention with her body.”

Me: “Your mom is offended by our time-lapse video.”

Husband: “Why?”

Mother: “It’s disgusting.”

Me: “Have you looked at [Her Daughter] on [Social Media #2]?”

Mother: *Faltering* “She— She doesn’t have one.”

Me: “She does.”

I pull up [Social Media #1] and go to [Her Daughter]’s page. One of the latests posts mentions her account on [Social Media #2]. I go to [Social Media #2] and scroll through videos of her fifteen-year-old daughter lip syncing to popular songs in bikinis, shaking her butt in cheeky underwear, and slowly licking lollipops. She has nearly 2,000 followers.

My husband sits down beside me, sees the videos, and jumps up immediately.

Husband: “Mom, what the h*** is this?”

Me: “It’s child pornography.”

Mother-In-Law: “It is not!”

Me: “She’s exposing more of her body in any one of these videos than I am in mine. You should ask her about this, too.”

I point to comments that should never be said to a stranger, let alone an underage child.

[Mother-In-Law] left without another word, and within an hour, [Her Daughter] had no [Social Media #1]. I haven’t heard a word about my video since. I felt bad for [Her Daughter], but maybe [Mother-In-Law] should have paid attention to her own children’s Internet activity more than mine.

Hats Off To Humor

, , , , , | Right | September 23, 2020

One day after work, I decide to run a well-known store for groceries and while I’m there, I decide to buy some beer. I’m twenty-six and I usually look at least my age or older because I’m losing my hair from the front rather than the back. Today, I’m wearing my T-shirt from work and a hat.

Cashier: “I need to see your ID. You don’t look twenty-one.”

Me: *Takes off my hat* “Now I do!”

The cashier, the lady behind me in line, and I all burst out laughing.