Issue #15: Can I see your ID?
Chronicles of being a walking ID check.
[Generated with DALL-E]
My greatest hits of, how old are you?
Scene: Inside a lift at work
I entered the lift, pressed the 10th floor and watched my feet (I tend to do that when I’m alone inside a lift with a stranger).
The man in a suit coughed.
Perhaps it was because I didn’t say, “God bless you.”
He scrutinised me in my corporate clothing and asked, “Is school out?”
I don’t recall my answer, I was crying on the inside.
Scene: Election Day!
Queued up to vote for someone no one else in my family intended to vote for, and feeling like a rebel, a foreign observer (why do we have these?) walked up to me and asked, “how old are you?”
I laughed.
My sister, a lawyer, didn’t think the question was funny. While she told the woman in very polite, lawyerly words, that her question was insulting, I feebly told her my age and volunteered to show my ID.
When I told her my age, her face drooped, she apologised, grabbed her colleague and walked far, far away.
Scene: A Wedding
Seated with my former colleagues at a wedding, a dear friend informed the woman sharing souvenirs that she’d skipped me. I hadn’t noticed the woman or the souvenirs - probably day dreaming.
The souvenir-sharer took one look at me, and confidently said, “the souvenirs are only for adults.”
I was wearing the asoebi for adults, the same fabric all the adults at our table wore.
I laughed.
The woman realised her mistake and hugged me, fervently saying, “sorry my dear, sorry.”
Scene: At a grocery store
I’d flown in the previous day for my friend’s wedding, and unfortunately I fell ill.
I entered a grocery store with my friends and picked a pack of Lemsip. The man at the till asked for my ID, and I collapsed into laughter.
For Lempsip? I don’t look old enough to buy Lempsip? Really?
I showed him my ID, and he screamed, “What? What? What?”
Good times.
Later on, I checked online for Lemsip’s age restrictions: