Monday, October 25, 2010

Barely Legal

Warning:  The title of this blog is more suggestive than its contents.

I've blogged about my relative age before.  My observations of my story give me more and more to blog about and this post is pointing out the borderline ridiculous.

Here in California, marijuana consumption is nearly legal.  This is an excellent opportunity for small businesses to sell paraphernalia to the occupants of California for this nearly legal activity.  These popular stores are called head shops.
Does this hoodie make my head look young?
It was in one of these shops that I found myself.  Well, it wasn't just me, and we were there looking for fully-legal smoking tobacco.  There were 8 of us in the shop, thinking it really was just a smoke shop until we were all bodily inside.  Four of the people with us were born in the late 90's and early 00's, making them clearly underage.  They also are our children.

If you were like us, and not paying attention, then you wouldn't have seen the tell-tail signs, which were pretty obvious.  I figured it out as my feet cleared the threshold, I am not exceedingly naive.  The most conspicuous sign was actually a sign, it said 'No one under 18 allowed', which no one really registered.

Though I didn't get a good look, I got the general impression.  A brightly lit counter.  Ads on the walls with white lights on bikini-clad tobacco girls.  One part of my mind was telling another, this might not be the shop for pipe tobacco.  There were a few shelves of brightly colored, kitschy tobacco products......and that was when the shop girl came out from behind her Oz-like curtain.  This was also when my ability to take in my surroundings ceased.

She looked at the adults and informed our party, that anyone under 18 could not be inside the store.  She started pointing at the children, age 13, 11, 10, 7 and just when I thought there should be a pause in her voice, or a breath, she pointed to me.  She did ask me for my ID instead of just throwing me out.  I didn't have my ID, it was in the car, which meant no matter what I had to leave the shop.

I'm old enough to know when I should just take a compliment.  It wasn't worth an explanation and it was totally worth the laugh when the whole deal was over.  I'm old enough to filter my words and not say: "I'm old enough to have a kid who is old enough to step through the front door." but since I'm telling you about it, maybe just barely.

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