Tomorrow night I dine at what my dad has dubbed the oriental fish heaven.

Once as a younger man of 22 years I along with several friends went to a Fred Meyer to buy some beverages for an evening spent watching carefully selected crap movies (think Deep Shock or Six-Stringed Samurai * ). I selected some high quality bottled root beer purchased it and attempted to leave the store. I was stopped at the exit by one of their employees and it went a little something like this. And she wasn’t joking either, trust me.

Fred Meyer Lady: “Excuse me Sir I am going to need to see some ID.”
Me: “Actually it’s not beer its just root beer.”
FML: “Sir, if I am going to let you leave I am going to need to see some Id.”
Me: “So…you’re carding on root beer now.”
FML: “Sir.”
Me: “Alright here it is, but I bought root beer.”
She looks at it.
FML: “Well, I guess its fine then.”
She hands it back.
Me: “Yeah I am 22 and its root beer.”
FML: “You just seem so young.”
Me: “Its just root beer!!”
FML: “Have a good night Sir.”
Exit me.





* The afore-mentioned movie is actually a highly symbolic representation of the struggle between surf rock and the forces of ska in the 1950’s.