When I brought my bottle of pinot grigio to the register, I pulled out my wallet and handed him my debit card. And the young Chinese man asked me, in somewhat stilted English: Please see your ID?
I am always thrilled when this happens, especially when someone who could be younger than me asks to see my ID. Because it means that there lies the possibility that this stranger thinks I could, maybe, possibly, somehow still be around age 21.
And that is fantastic.
Oh, ABSOLUTELY! I said, probably way too enthusiastically.
I gave my license to him and stood dwelling on my youthful good looks. Until I saw the sign:
ID required for anyone using a credit card.
But because I was feeling emboldened (well, and wearing pigtails), I wanted to be sure. Maybe it had nothing to do with my card and everything to do with my cuteness. Right?
"You know, when you asked me for my ID I thought it was for the wine," I said. Not entirely sure he'd understand what I was getting at.
But he did.
"Oh, no, we have to ask anyone who gives us credit card," he said.
And still I pressed.
"I was kind of hoping it was because you thought I might be 20."
He smiled as he handed me back my card and my receipt and replied -- with a heavy accent and perfect poignancy --
"Oh sure. We can pretend that if you want."