Proof, if proof be needed...
I was in the local temple of capitalism on the 23rd of December, trying to buy a few perishable items and hoping against hope I might get to the front of the checkout queue before they passed their sell-by-dates...
I finally got there (yea!) just behind a young woman with a fairly small load (double yea!!) and then it all went pear shaped...
She wanted to use the home delivery service (give me strength) but was in the wrong queue... When the assistant told her this she got out her mobile and started fiddling with it, while pacing up and down. Eventually, to regain her attention, the assistant asked if she had proof of age for the cider on the conveyor belt. No, of course she didn't, but her mum was there at another checkout and she would have proof.
It turned out it was her mum just 10 yards away that she was phoning. Eventually the mother appeared, looking like the troll from Merlin and breathing green smoke. She glared at the poor checkout lady and said "THAT'S MY DAUGHTER. SHE'S TWENTY FOUR!!!!!!!!" and waddled off. Ah, well that's okay then, what more proof could you need?
Being well past the age when anyone would ask me, I cheered the poor assistant up by asking if she needed me to hoike my 85 year old father out of the pub to vouch for me.
I finally got there (yea!) just behind a young woman with a fairly small load (double yea!!) and then it all went pear shaped...
She wanted to use the home delivery service (give me strength) but was in the wrong queue... When the assistant told her this she got out her mobile and started fiddling with it, while pacing up and down. Eventually, to regain her attention, the assistant asked if she had proof of age for the cider on the conveyor belt. No, of course she didn't, but her mum was there at another checkout and she would have proof.
It turned out it was her mum just 10 yards away that she was phoning. Eventually the mother appeared, looking like the troll from Merlin and breathing green smoke. She glared at the poor checkout lady and said "THAT'S MY DAUGHTER. SHE'S TWENTY FOUR!!!!!!!!" and waddled off. Ah, well that's okay then, what more proof could you need?
Being well past the age when anyone would ask me, I cheered the poor assistant up by asking if she needed me to hoike my 85 year old father out of the pub to vouch for me.