Ka-ching! I forced a smile and reached into my purse. He’s young, I thought.
“I.D.?” he asked. “Of course,”I replied as flirtatiously as possible for uttering but two words.
He was kind. He made small talk as I pretended to forage through my purse.
He waited. I batted my eyelashes. “I know it’s here somewhere. I’m so sorry for holding up your line,” I said.
Could this actually work? I wondered when I heard those beautiful words of approval.
“No problem, sweetheart,” the clerk said as he bagged my beers.“I trust you.”
I tried not to look too excited, but I wanted to scream!
I took the bag and practically danced out to my car. I popped the trunk and sat down. Yes!!
One out of 10, I thought. One out of 10!
It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Asking “I.D.?” is probably innate for these cashiers by now. Doesn’t matter what you have on or how hard you flirt. As it turns out, most liquor stores in the city will turn you down without proper identification.
But don’t be too discouraged. We 21-and-under’s all have gimmicks,and my guess is that one of them just might work.
If you opted to have a lazy Thursday, you may have seen me: Hot pink T-shirt over a sheer whiteblouse and a pair of dark wash jeans cruising around in a baby blue Beetle, a six-pack of Hefeweizen in the trunk.
You may have considered the inconspicuous retro Edy’s hat and superstar sunglasses to be overkill, but call it what you want. It worked, and my three-hour beer run was well worth the hard-earned, cold bottles of suds — at least to these guys in the newsroom.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on March 31, 2007. Read the original PDF.