I like getting carded. Who doesn’t? I am indeed very flattered when a clerk can’t tell that I’m thirty none-of-your-business and asks for my ID. And if they don’t, I like to think they’re giving me a pass because it’s my twenty-first birthday. That always makes me feel better. I felt even better one time when I saw that the clerk didn’t ask for ID from the pimply-faced young man in a tux behind me or his date in a peach-colored gown with a big-ass corsage in the middle of last May either. I’m assuming that the clerk was assuming that their twenty-first birthdays coincided with the night of their high school senior prom. Awe, how sweet … young, underaged, binge drinking love!
Now, I know that age should have nothing to do with being an author. I mean, JK Rowling and Stephanie Meyer were not exactly spring chickens when their books came out. And EL James … well, EL James is the epitome of eternal youth and beauty with her snazzy glasses so that’s a bad example. Looking at my Facebook and Twitter feeds, however, I find it harder and harder to compete with all the twenty somethings out there. And whoever said thirty-none-of-your-business is the new twenty-none-of-your-business lied. More like the new forty-none-of-your-business or even fifty-none-of-your-business, maybe, but not the new twenty-none-of-your-business. Or at least that’s how I feel sometimes. I guess the only way around it is to act like a twenty-something fool and hope no one catches on like “Oh My God! HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW THEY’RE STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL???” clerk didn’t. I can pull it off, I think. For instance, I still can make a decent quintessential twenty-something fool duckface, don’t you think?
Eh, what do you know. You’re probably the same folks that thought this was hot.