One of life’s little WTF moments occurred recently and I can’t resist sharing it. Rhiannon and I were in the decent-sized city that is O’Hare Airport. We had a two-hour wait between planes and took a stroll to find lunch. Perhaps surprisingly, there are several good places to eat there. We found a sushi bar, sat down and I ordered a glass of wine.
“I need to see ID,” said the waitress.
“You what?” I said incredulously. [That’s me with my friend the bronze boar!]
“I need to see an ID,” she repeated, completely straight-faced.
“But surely ….” was all I got out. She looked at me and said, “We have to check everyone who orders alcohol.”
“Drinking age in Illinois is 21, right?” I said.
“Yessir, it is,” she said her expression never wavering.
“Just of out of curiosity,” I laughed, “how old do you think I am?”
“I’m sorry sir, we’re not allowed to think here.”
“You’re not allowed to what?”
“Think.”
“So you really do want to see my ID?” I asked.
“Yes sir, otherwise I cannot bring you your wine.”
So I got out my driver’s license while Rhiannon sat there snickering quietly. The waitress looked at it, nodded and walked away.
A few minutes later she returned with my wine. Being an ever-inquiring soul I asked, “I’m curious. What would happen to someone here who stopped to think?”
“Hasn’t happened in the two years I’ve been here,” she answered and walked away.
The wine, a French Viognier, was quite good and the sushi excellent. The waitress, who I hope was a stand-up comic working on a routine, was best of all.