My Wife Brings Back a High School Senior

And makes a real man out of him.

“This is Michael,” she said, when she came back from the bar with an 18-year-old dude with a Nike t-shirt and Adidas sandals. His pants were sweat pants. He looked like he worked out a lot — that’s my wife’s “type.”

“Um…” I said. “How the heck did you get in the bar, Mike?”

“Fake ID,” he said.

“OK,” I said. “Do you have any real ID we can check, you know, to make sure you’re of age.”

“I have my learner’s permit,” he said.

“You don’t even have a driver’s license?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But I’ve got an appointment.”

I glanced over at my wife, who was biting her lip, barely suppressing her glee, and obviously quite pleased with herself. She was like a fisherman who had landed a big trout.

Michael’s learner’s permit said he had just turned 18. But there was no photo ID on the document.

“Do you have any photo ID?” I asked him.

He handed me his school ID, from one of the rich private high schools in the valley.

“Buckley School!” I said. “Impressive. You like it there?”