The Middle

Off day

I go to a bar. The giant bouncer manly man asked me for my ID. I showed him, & he stated “Tell me something on this”? & I was like [crap, what’s on a license…beside the picture, c’mon Joel, think.] 

So I stated: “Uh, well, what would you like to know?” 

[Nice save, he’ll never realize that you can’t remember anything on your own license, and you won’t get caught]. [Wait, get caught? I AM ME!].

“How old are you?” he yells. 

[Crap, I was expecting him to ask me my birthdate…well, this question is easy too…wait, I CAN’T REMEMBER HOW OLD I AM!] 

[Don’t panic! I know my birthday so just minus the year…WHAT YEAR IS IT?]

I looked so suspicious, so I just ran. And came back home…and that is my story of going to my first bar.