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?”