DATELINE: Old Dogs Jump Through Hoops
The last time I was carded for my age was about forty years ago. I wanted to buy a bottle of white wine for a friend, and the clerk was quite sheepish—saying, “Oh, am I out of line?”
I insisted on showing my driver’s license to prove that I was well over 21.
This time, we were not amused.
Going to CVS to buy cough syrup, a young girl became quite belligerent as I stood in line with people behind me. She insisted that she needed my exact birthday before she could sell me a bottle of NyQuil.
Snide as an old curmudgeon can be, I asked, “Do I look older than 18?” She said it was store policy.
I told her it was “unnecessary and outrageous.” That did not deter her insistence that I could not purchase cough syrup without a license.
Who the hell do they think they are at CVS? I said make up a date. She refused. I told her I was born in 2000. Only that would satisfy her.
I was waiting for a request for my ID, as she then asked if I had a CVS card. I told her I had burned it in protest. She was not amused. Did I have a telephone number? We are tracked by so many different means now. You cannot avoid having a police record of every item you buy at CVS.
It is an outrage for sure, but you never know when those old folks at the old folks’ home are making meth.