Great Conversations, Part I

Friday had a huge gathering of alumni on campus. I was there to audition for a film, or at least I thought it was an audition... turned out that I already had the part. Since I'm a born scavenger, I wanted to see what free food I could score from the get-together upstairs. After all, Ithaca is constantly trying to shakedown alumni for money, and they have to treat them to something in return. In this case it was a wet bar.

Me: "Hi, I'll have a double whiskey on the rocks."
Bartender: "Are you 21?"
Me: "Oh god... I don't want to have to go through this, can I just get my drink?"
Bartender (Humored but on the precipice of anger): "Seriously, I need to see your ID."
Me: "I don't have an ID! The government won't give one to a 97 year old anomaly..."
Bartender: "Oh come on..."
Me: "You know I'm so sick of this shit. I'm class of '31. When I was young my mother dipped me in the river Styx by my ankle and now I've ceased to age. The government has refuses to acknowledge my existence since 1961, because I raise too many scientific, religious, and mythical questions..."
Bartender: "..."
Me: "Whatever, fine..."

I think if I actually walked away with a drink I would have been less satisfied.