Setting – Frozen rat store
A couple who appeared to be about 50, stood discussing pets with Doug and I. Doug mentioned that all of our pets are good with our children. The man in the other couple asked the ages of our children. Doug replied that our children range from four to nineteen. The man looked at me and said with a straight and sincere face, “You have a 40-year-old child?” My jaw fell on the floor. As I crawled around on the floor to retrieve my jaw from underneath the shelves, Doug literally ran to the other side of the store to laugh like a hyena. The woman in the other couple smacked the man on the head. “Does she look like she has a 40-year-old child?” He looked at her with big, innocent eyes. “I can’t tell any more.” I stumbled off to find Doug. “We’re going to the store and buy hair color today.” He didn’t even try his usual penny-pinching speech about how nice I would look with completely gray hair. He just nodded silently.
Setting – Generic grocery store
For Doug’s birthday, he treated himself to something he has looked at a million times, but never purchased. He assembled his own 6-pack of beer. Since I don’t drink beer, I offered helpful advice, like, “That label looks fun” and “The shape of that bottle is interesting.” He eventually made his selections and we went to the checkout. We put our tiny basket of items down and waited for the total. The checker asked for my ID. I told her she’d have to use Doug’s, because mine was in the car. She got all flustered and said she was REQUIRED to check the ID of everyone buying beer. “I’m not buying beer. He is.” Doug handed her his license. She continued to argue that she HAD to have my license. Doug tried reasoning with her much more calmly than I have ever witnessed him behave in the face of frustrating stupidity. She typed Doug’s birth date in and turned back to me. “Well, I guess you can just tell me your birth date.” Odds of us ever buying beer from the store with the world’s dimmest checker ever again? Slim to none.