How Old Am I, Bitch?!

I suppose I can break the news that we didn't win the $54 million lottery jackpot. That's not the story, although if I did I'd totally let you know how I planned on frivolously wasting my newfound wealth. ;0)

I'm the ticket buyer in the relationship. I pay $2 at the kiosk for whichever lottery I feel like playing (bigger jackpot!!) every week and never see anything back again. It's a great game! It's never a big deal; money on counter, grunt a few words and put a useless little piece of paper in my wallet. Same routine, every kiosk, every convenience store.

Yesterday Mr. Stinky decided to buy a ticket as well... increase our chances a little. Y'know, from 1 in 14 million to 2 in 14 million. Good odds. However, and I say that with great disdain, he got carded. Yes! The guy actually asked Mr. Stinky to prove that he was at least 18 years of age. Holy crap, this sucks so much! I NEVER get carded! Not for lottery tickets, not at the movies, not at the LCBO and not at The Beer Store. What the hell?!? And it's not just this instance, he gets carded buying alcohol too!

Now I know for a fact that by law, if you look under 25, if there's even a suspicion that you may be younger than you are, you must be ID-ed. It is an enormous insult to me that since I hit my early 20s I am no longer asked to prove my age.

Do I look old? Do I have a receding hairline, turkey wattle or toot around in my little scooter? Do I wear shapeless dresses that end just high enough so that you can see my nylons drooping down my calves? Surely someone might think I could be a 17 year old trying to sneak some cheap booze out into the parking lot to get drunk with my other underaged friends and end up peeing on the side of the store and being all youthfully rowdy.

I get so excited about being asked for my ID that I will actually sing to Mr. Stinky right there "I got car..deddd!" Usually my driver's licence is ready to go before I even get to the front of the line, that's how much of a loser I am. The only place I get carded is at the casino, but that's coz they got stiff rules and I'm sure going with Mr. Stinky helps a lot since apparently he looks like he could be under 18 years old.

Who doesn't want to look younger than they are? I've been moisturizing since I grew hands. Oil of Olay: twice a day. I started using it because it's what my mommy used and she smelled good. Come tell me I look 19, my fragile ego needs it. Flatter me a little, it does the complexion good.