Three words that entered my consciousness, INPO:
I. Career day, 1988. Third grade. Lunch tables, over by the fence. Between the fire-fighters and nurses, one of my friends is carrying a clipboard and wearing a blue suit. I'm stumped.
"What are you, a secretary?" I ask.
"I'm a lawyer!" she exclaims.
Lawyer? What's that?
II. Karate class, 1991. One of my favorite moments is storytime. And sparring. Yarrrr!Sensei tells us a parable about a special bird flying next to each of us: "You all have an eagle. For some, and you know who you are, this eagle is very big. It's way up here, bigger than you are, and that can cause some problems. Others have small eagles. You keep them in check. You help others. You say thank you. That's what I want to see: tiny eagles, everywhere."
For years, I envision a bird hovering over my shoulder. Then I realize he was talking about my ego.
III. Second grade. A girl reads a poem about a pair of bunnies in a forest."The gay little bunnies hopped and hopped," she says. And two boys start snickering. "They're gay!" one says, and more boys laugh.
Sr. Mary Lou tells them to be quiet, so I conclude that interrupting a poem with my own reaction is not acceptable.
All this to say: My asking today is paltry, so I've decided to regale you with miscellaneous facts about myself. I'm sure you care.
I ended up at TGIF for dinner with a group of friends, where I noticed a wine I actually like on the menu. Ménage à Trois, fruity and round, in a style I find immensely drinkable.My turn came to place a drink order, and the waitress asked for my ID before I could open my mouth.
I didn't have my driver's license on me, so I made this pitch: "I'm almost 30. I forgot my ID. Can I have a glass of wine?"
Honey, so much sympathetic, empathetic, you're-pathetic honey, oozed out of every pore, every hair follicle, from the very core of her soul.
"I'm sooooooo sorry. Not without an ID."
I know, it's not her, it's her boss. It's not her boss, it's the owner. It's not the owner, it's the liquor license. It's not the license, it's the lawmakers. It's not the lawmakers, it's the lobbyists. It's not the lobbyists, it's the drunk drivers.
Cry me a river.
Maybe my tender ego should be flattered she carded me, maybe I should become a lawyer to argue the drinking age away, but I just think that's so...
Gained: A glass of water, which I had to ask twice for. Yuck.
