Saturday, June 09, 2007


I've written before about how being at Undisclosed Location Summer Theater surrounded by interns and apprentices can make anyone over 30 (or over 25) feel very old, so one of the positives is that bars in rural New England are also much more likely to card everyone who walks through the door, just as a matter of policy, and who doesn't like to occasionally allow the delusion that someone actually thinks you might be 19? So I was delighted last night when the doorman at the local pub asked for my ID.

Until, that is, he handed it back to me and said, "Oh. Sorry."