Sorry bro, but your beard is not an ID.

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March 29, 2013 by serverscorned

Like it or not, it’s my job to card you for booze. I have taken a silent oath to the responsible service of alcohol. Its like a dark cloud looming over me. I wish it wasn’t there but it is and it’s telling me to card your giggling ass so I don’t go to jail. I realize that you think this is ridiculous, you bearded barely 21 year old. How dare I ask you to prove you are of legal age to purchase and consume an alcoholic beverage! What right do I have to question you? Well, how about it’s my job and if you want that coveted liquid nectar you better cough it up or you are going thirsty tonight.

I hate this part of my job. It’s tedious and annoying. It takes time to properly card someone. I have to make you take it out of your wallet so I can physically touch it, turn it over and check the back, catch some light to reveal the proper holograms. I then have to study the photo to ensure that it is in fact yours, do some math with the birthdate, check the stats of height and weight to further ensure that it’s you, and make sure it’s not expired. Once I had a kid try and show me his ID still in his wallet. I made him remove it and hand it to me, and as I turned to catch some light for the holograms I noticed this weird yellow border. So I flipped it over to find the words “congratulations you are a burrito elito”. I turned back around to refuse it just in time to see his empty seat and the front door still closing behind his speedy escape. I kept that fake for a while. It made me laugh. But it also served as a reminder that you assholes will try anything to fuck us over just so you can get a damn drink.

I’ve found that the people who get the most pissed about being carded are those that are under 23. I just love this. Seriously? You turned 21 yesterday and you’re pissed about getting carded? Well get used to it shitbag because you’re gonna be pissed for a long time. I begin to revel in your extended anguish in my mind. Oh to be a fly on the wall every time you get carded for the next 10 years just so I could experience the glee that is your disappointment. You young bastards just don’t get it. Trust me, it’s a sad day when you stop getting carded.

And you whole tables of 20 something’s kill me the fuck down. I just carded your friend, and your other friend, AND your other friend so why the fuck am I having to ask you all individually for your damn IDs. Get that shit out already because I’m sure as fuck carding you all. And spare me your individual exasperation. Stop rolling your eyes, and hemming and hawing and prove that you are at least LEGALLY adult enough to have an alcoholic beverage.

I do all of this because if I don’t and you are underage, I risk a huge fine, going to jail, losing my own drivers license, my current job, and the ability to ever work in my industry again. Yeah, it’s kind of a big deal. So, pardon me oh bearded wonder, but your opportunity to get rip roaring drunk tonight will hinge on your ability to prove your age to me. Because while you might be a big deal in your circle, to me you are just another jackass that poses a threat to my livelihood.

So, sorry bro, but your beard is not an ID.

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