St. Paddy's Day @ AM/PM

Notes before reading* 

My D.O.B. is 03/26/87

Last night, I decided to go to a friend's house to kick back and celebrate st. patricks right after I got off of work. So, after work I called my buddy brandon and he gave me directions, he also reminded me that it wasn't gonna be a big thing and it was byob.

Usually, when i hear a party is byob... i still don't bring my own shit and i'll bum off of you. But i decided to get my own this time. On the way there, I stopped by the am/pm located on the corner of Moody and Lincoln. I parked, walked in, searched for the liquor section and proceeded straight to the coolers.

the SECOND that I laid a finger on the fuckin door to get a 12 pack, i hear "ahem." 

So I turn around and I find a bald, short and stubby indian man standing in my fucking face, the top of his head was actually around my mid-chest, but the little fucker stood maybe a foot apart from me with his eyes gazing at my youthfullness. 

He places his hand in front me and says, "ID PLEASE." I give my i.d., grabbed my beer and we walk over to the counter. He walks into his little fucking corner and grabs a fucking calculator. a fucking calculator.

#1. the ID says in RED: Age 21 in 2008

#2. it is 200fucking9

#3. if you need to use an actual calculator to calculate a persons age, you need to drop the calculator and kill yourself. really.

So after he spends 2 whole minutes on the calculator, he walks up to me and puts the id next to my face for some serious comparison. He then asks, "So, you are 22?" In my head, I really wanted to tell him how much of a fucking idiot he was and say that I was 21, but I calmly said, "no, i turn 22 next week."

finally, he rings me up. I slide my card once. I slide my card twice. I slide my card three times. He presses a button and simply tells me, "Declined."

#1. I have money. but i expect that he doesn't know that.

#2. the machine never asked me for my fucking pin number.

#3. fuck this motherfucker.

As soon as he says "Declined," the motherfucker starts walking my beer back to the fridge and at this is the point, I start to get frustrated. I say, "hey, what the fuck? it didn't even ask me for my pin how the fuck can it be declined?" he simply says, "sorry, declined." Luckily, I had a 20 in my pocket so I took it out and told him i'll pay cash. He paused and I could still remember the look on his face. It was just a mere second that you saw it in his face but i knew that in his mind, at that moment, he said.. "fuck." It was a sense of defeat. I had beaten the little motherfucker. 

til next time smirf.