(no subject)
When I was a high school student, I lived a few blocks from several convenience stores. In Michigan, they're called "party stores." This is presumably because it's where you go when you want to buy stuff so you can go party. (It did cause some confusion when I moved to Virginia, where a party store is where you buy banners and balloons.)
The party store I usually went to was caled Hollywood Market. Hollywood was actually a block or two away from Hollywood Drive, which is the wealthiest neighborhood in downtown Monroe.
Hollywood Market offered pretty much every vice legally available in my hometown at that time. Caffeine? Coffee, Coke, Mountain Dew. Munchies? Sweet or salty, pretty much anything you wanted. Beer, wine, hard liquor. Cigarettes, cigars, chewing tobacco.
When my friends and I got together, it was pretty standard that we would take along some alcoholic beverage with us. Sometimes Paul would get one of his older brothers to buy for us, or Jim (not me, another Jim) would raid his mom's liquor cabinet or steal or otherwise aqcuire a bottle somewhere.
Yeah, the legal drinking age was 21, but determination, money and connections tend to override such trivia.
Hollywood had two cash registers, and the same people were usually running them, a guy on the left and a woman on the right. They were both in their mid-twenties, and I think they were both related to the store's owners.
One night I came in and it wasn't busy, so I started talking to the guy at his register, not about anything in particular, just shooting the breeze, and I mentioned something about high school.
"Oh, seriously?" he said. "Wow, I thought you were about my age."
As soon as he said that, I realized that, at any time prior to my having said that, this guy probably would have sold me hard liquor without carding me. However, now that I'd blurted this out, there was no chance.
A few days went by, and I came in on another slow night, only this time I was talking to the woman at the other register, just shooting the breeze, and ... again.
"Oh, seriously?" she said. "Wow, I thought you were about my age."
I do remember laughing and shaking my head a lot as I walked home that night.
The party store I usually went to was caled Hollywood Market. Hollywood was actually a block or two away from Hollywood Drive, which is the wealthiest neighborhood in downtown Monroe.
Hollywood Market offered pretty much every vice legally available in my hometown at that time. Caffeine? Coffee, Coke, Mountain Dew. Munchies? Sweet or salty, pretty much anything you wanted. Beer, wine, hard liquor. Cigarettes, cigars, chewing tobacco.
When my friends and I got together, it was pretty standard that we would take along some alcoholic beverage with us. Sometimes Paul would get one of his older brothers to buy for us, or Jim (not me, another Jim) would raid his mom's liquor cabinet or steal or otherwise aqcuire a bottle somewhere.
Yeah, the legal drinking age was 21, but determination, money and connections tend to override such trivia.
Hollywood had two cash registers, and the same people were usually running them, a guy on the left and a woman on the right. They were both in their mid-twenties, and I think they were both related to the store's owners.
One night I came in and it wasn't busy, so I started talking to the guy at his register, not about anything in particular, just shooting the breeze, and I mentioned something about high school.
"Oh, seriously?" he said. "Wow, I thought you were about my age."
As soon as he said that, I realized that, at any time prior to my having said that, this guy probably would have sold me hard liquor without carding me. However, now that I'd blurted this out, there was no chance.
A few days went by, and I came in on another slow night, only this time I was talking to the woman at the other register, just shooting the breeze, and ... again.
"Oh, seriously?" she said. "Wow, I thought you were about my age."
I do remember laughing and shaking my head a lot as I walked home that night.