You know what I’m talking about. When you’re something between 16 and 25 you’re the target group of I.D. fetishists.
In fact I have little problems with that. It’s rather the case that people guess I’m something around 25 than 20 or younger. Lately it happened to me several times that I was going to clubs where all my friends were asked for I.D. but not me. I was quite unsure what was the reason for that because I was along with guys who are taller, bigger, beardier and older.
However, I am fine with that because I never carry any I.D. The more strange it was when I was at a deli two months ago. My lighter was done and I just popped in to get a new one and run. I took a short look at the journals but figured I hadn’t enough money to buy anything but the lighter. So, I slipped to the counter and said „One lighter, please.“
The fat owner looked at me without any expression on her rugged face. „I.D.!“ I thought she didn’t get me right: „See, my lighter here (holding it under her nose) broke down. I want to buy a new one.“ – „I.D.!“ I really couldn’t believe she wouldn’t sell me a lighter. I was so perplexed that I stood in front of her and my face showed nothing but incomprehension. I looked her in the eye for ten seconds, turned around and left without one more word.
I really could not believe it. When I was fifteen, I used to buy cigarettes, lighters and beer and nobody cared at all. How could this happen to me at the age of 20? I entered a liquor store next door and asked whether they had matches or lighters. The employee was sad to inform me they had run out of either. Still shocked by the previous action I told her what just happened to me. „What? I.D. for a lighter??“ She was just as shocked as me. „I would guess you’re 26“, she said with an evaluating look.
Finally, I went to the drugstore next door and bought three lighters for a buck without any complications.
This whole thing got me completely confused. Within five minutes my age was guessed somewhere between 16 and 26 – ten years apart! I must really have a confusing appearance…
What made my day was the way back to the car. The fat owner of the deli was arranging some signs outside her shop as I went by, lighting a cigarette and presenting her my three new electronic lighters in different neon colors that costed me less than one of her bloody lighters. I’m not sure whether I actually said it or was just thinking: „Yeah, look at me. You don’t deserve my money!“ And I’m really sure, even if I just thought it – she knew exactly what I meant.
