The Photo ID Of Dorian Gray

(I am 23, but look very young for my age. This normally leads to an extra glance or two whenever I have to present my ID. When I originally got my ID six years prior, my hair was a lot shorter and I was wearing glasses. On this day, I’m trying to buy a simple bottle of wine for a dinner party.)

Cashier: “This is your ID? You’re how old?”

Me: “23. I’ll be 24 in a month.”

Cashier: “There is no way that this is you. Your hair is so long! This picture has it short! And you’re wearing glasses!”

Me: “Well… yes. That picture was taken six years ago.”

Cashier: “No, this is a fake. I can’t sell you anything. And I’m going to have to cut this up.”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Cashier: “Trust me; I’m doing you a favor. I should be calling the cops. I’m just going to cut this fake up.”

(The cashier grabs a pair of scissors and starts to put them over her fingers before I stop her.)

Me: “The h*** you are! I’m telling you, that’s my real ID. I’m 23, my birthday is [month/date]. I’m a [astrological sign], and I live on [street]. That is my ID, and it is very much real.”

Cashier: “No, it’s not. This picture looks nothing like you. In this picture, your hair is short, and you have glasses. But you have long hair and no glasses.”

Me: “Yes… Funny thing, pictures: they stay the same over time while you change.

Cashier: *blank stare*

Me: “Hair grows, ya know… and I’m wearing contacts.”

Cashier: “…Or you’re lying.”

Me: “Just get me your manager. Now.”

(The manager comes up and I explain what is going on. All the while, the cashier is insistent that the ID is not real because of the difference of my appearance. The manager quickly catches on and looks from the ID to the cashier.)

Manager: “Let me get this straight: you’re saying that this ID is a fake because her hair is longer and she doesn’t have glasses?”

Cashier: “Yes! We can’t sell to minors! She looks so young! We’d get in trouble! It’s a fake!”

Manager: ‘You do realize that hair grows right? Her face is exactly the same in this ID; it’s her.”

Cashier: “Fine! FINE! It’s all on you! When we get closed down for selling to stupid minors, it’s all on you!”

(The manager quickly rings me out and gives me a really good discount for the inconvenience, all the while apologizing profusely.)

Cashier: *glares at me* “You’re lucky he did that for you!”

Manager: “…and you’re lucky you’re my sister’s kid, or I’d have fired you already for being so d***ed stupid!”