Nano-Narrative Exercise

I’ve been in this situation too many times. As I attempt to purchase a bottle of red wine, the cashier asks for identification. So many places have given up on carding that I rarely remember that the formality exists. I exasperatedly search my bottomless bag, eventually revealing a West Virginia State ID. Clearly, this is not a common occurrence for him; the cashier takes one quick look at the card and scowls. “I’m sorry, but I can’t legally accept this. Don’t you have a license?”

I know that he’s lying about the law. He thinks my ID is fake, and I wonder why. Is it that my youthful face betrays my 22 years, or is it so unbelievable that a non-driving West Virginia citizen wants to buy a bottle of wine in New York City?

I leave rather than argue.


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