Wine Whine

So today I'm grabbing receipts out of my purse (I'm not a fan of the purse, there was a time I just carried my wallet around in my hand, still do occasionally, but, as usual, I digress) - things are a pain unless it's something you actually want a receipt for. So I find a receipt from a recent purchase of a bottle of wine to take to a dinner thing. Then, to what should my wandering eye(s) appear, but an extra item listed. For $0.00. What is said item you ask? Well, it says "ID NOT REQ OVER 40". Welllll!!! I'm not over 40!!!! {raises eyebrow with fire in eyes}. Now I know I'm pretty much guaranteed to not get ID'd by this point in my life, but still. I think in the last, say, 8 years, I've been ID'd twice. Once at a liquor store in Canada, which was a shock to be sure, but then more recently in the US at a restaurant!! I thought the server was joking but she looked highly annoyed when I started to laugh. I really think she thought I was trying to pull a fast one, crack a few jokes and make her forget all about her request. Or that I might try a Jedi mind trick (waves hand, "you don't need to see my ID"). Now I know some places have policies "we ID under 25" but still. Getting back to this "over 40" thing, I cannot believe they print that out on the receipt! I'm sure a couple people I know will get a good laugh over this one. I wonder if they have other categories... "ID checked, NP, over 25". Maybe they should come up with some fun ones like, "so fucking old there was absolutely no need to check for ID, $0.00" or "fake boobs, could therefore use other cosmetic surgery, looks about 62 but checked ID anyway, $0.00".
I'm just hoping that in 2 years I'm not entitling a blog post "the liquor depot finally made me buy those fancy anti-aging creams (but I'm so damn old I can't remember where i put them)."

Super Soup Saturday

Long (and not exciting story) about plans being cancelled yada yada. End result being that I'm opening one of those cartons of soup to grab something to eat, an unusual experience. So I read the directions re: opening (pull up the tab and tear) and I say, "wow, this is tearable soup". Which, when you aren't typing but talking, sounds just like, "wow, this is terrible soup". Isn't that scintillating? Maybe I should add that word to the title...

Drive Thru Debaucle

I was going through the drive thru awhile back. I knew the person in the vehicle in front of me. Xe shall remain "safely anonymous". {You know, when I first typed that it said "shall rename" - Freudian slip I suppose. The 'safely anonymous' I stole from Star Wars (I can hear you Sid, knock it off).} Anyway, I digress. Wildly. Crazily. Off the hook-ily. So, as I was saying...the drive thru. I guess my knock out good looks and winning personality get some people flustered (har har) because the person in front of me pulled up just short of the ordering speaker and began talking to a different rectangularly shaped object. The door to the garbage can. At first, I'd thought xe was simply not pulling up to the ordering speaker because xe was perusing the menu. But once I realized what was going on, I couldn't help but chortle. I think "safely anonymous" was embarrassed. But xe can now remain safely anonymously embarrassed. Immortalized on my blog. Which would be safe even without the anonymity due to the scarcity of readers. I don't check the stats anyway, so I guess I could pretend that thousands of people read this blog, just none of them comment. You know, too dazzled by the wit to have a rejoinder. Uh huh. Does that mean that, in effect, when I'm blogging I'm talking to a garbage can instead of a speaker too? Hmm, deep thoughts.

Female Football Fantasy

Titillating title, n'est pas?

Last night I had a dream. NO, it wasn't about little black boys and girls. Let's be clear, it wasn't about little kids of any colour or creed. However, it was about football. And a team that won the Superbowl. And then the QB was taking off xe's equipment and I suddenly realized that the QB was a woman. I know this because I can clearly remember seeing her bra from behind as she discreetly removed some of her equipment. And don't get any ideas, it wasn't a Manssiere or a Bro (TM Seinfeld), it was a woman and a woman's bra.
What does this mean? Why am I dreaming this? (For some of you, you know who you are... I think I should add, "don't answer that" - I've read your dream interpretations before, freak.)