I got off early today and took the back roads home so I could spot any coyotes that might be hunting the late morning and quickly found out that I was out of Copenhagen. Oh well, there's a store up the road 4 or 5 miles.
I pulled in and parked, scattering the chickens that were pecking in the dirt lot and went in for a bottle of water and a can of Cope and this fucking girl behind the counter looks at me dead serious and asks me for my ID.
"State law says I have to card anybody buying alcohol or tobacco products to ensure that they're not underage" she says in an obviously often repeated monotone.
I grabbed my grey beard and waved it at her. "How's this for ID?"
She sold me the can.