At the check-out: “Do you have an ID with you?”
In my head: ”Miss, it has been a long day. I just want to go home as quickly as possible, and enjoy a beer. I promise I’ll drink responsibly. And also, I am 30: way past 25 and definitely not 18”
In reality: ”No, but I don’t need one really” plus a big smile.
She’s let me buy the beer. I did only take one with my tea. I told you, I’d drink responsibly. Later when I sipped through my chilled beer, I started to feel the flattery of being id’d. I can’t help being vain now and then, whether I am 30 or not.
It was my 30th birthday last month. My boyfriend thought we should do something special. He suggested going to Paris. Also, we have lived 3-hours train-journey far from Paris for like 15 months now. It’s about the bloody time we took the ride.
In Paris, we climbed up to the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. It was cold – February European continental cold. Being so high up made the cold much worse. But the view was so impressive that we thought we would climb further to the top next time. A starry summer night, maybe.