America's Pastime

I love going to baseball games. Mind you, I don't want to play and would rather watch paint dry then watch a game on tv. But I love going to a stadium. Though there's something about the food at a baseball stadium that just makes me eat.

And when I eat at a baseball game, I EAT. I went to a Reds game with my chapter once, and here is what I ate: a hot dog, beer, a pretzel, I helped a friend with their nachos, and my boyfriend at the time had a bag of peanuts that I kept helping myself too (he said I could-and even if he didn't it wouldn't have mattered, sharing food w/Sarah is implied when you date me). We're in the 7th or 8th inning when the cotton candy guy walks by and I say "Oh , I want that too!"
At that point my boyfriend looked over at me with a mixture of slight amazement and slight horror and goes "my god! Where do you put all of that?"

Anyway, yesterday I went to baseball game with some friends because the seats were $2. Yep, local event, America's pastime, cheap (I made up for the ticket cost in food but whatev), fun times with friends, so, rock. Well, it being a baseball game, I have to have a hot dog. You have to get a hot dog at a baseball game. (No, I don't know what's in them, no I don't want to find out. So don't be that douche who feels the need to ruin it m'kay). And also, I had to have a beer because of course I do.

My high school band runs the concession stands for the stadium, so I like to patronize them and help out. But the line I was in was taking fo-ev-er and all I want is a beer and hot dog. So I finally get up the register, smile and place my order. Yeah, the line was slow, but I don't have to be an asshole to the guy because of it. I have my id ready because they card anyone who looks under 30, and I know I look like young.

First the guy asks me to take out my id from my wallet, which is fine. Then he takes it from me and keeps looking at it, the picture, and me.
dude: "Is this your sister?"
me: "no." (and she's younger and than me anyway, and she's legal too, so whatever).
dude: "There are no freckles in this picture."

I got this new license when my wallet was stolen in March, I'm wearing my glasses in it, and you can't see freckles in a driver's license picture anyway. And now by this point, I've been waiting 15 minutes in line just to order and now this guy my dad's age is all but accusing me of having fake id. So I get pissy and attitudy with him.

me: "I've been sunbathing this summer. Believe it, I am 27 years old."

He gives me a doubtful look and rings in the beer anyway as I stare him down with a stony look. We finally get to our seats and I text dr soc about what went down because I was pretty agitated. And he was offend to the proper level that a boyfriend should be and sympathetically texed back that the beer probably wasn't even worth it was it?

me: "no, it was definitely not worth my level of indignation."