A Night of Hypocrisy

I write and edit this whole thing myself, so as a disclaimer, I will let it be known I am an awful speller. Keep that in mind.

Any way, on to my tale. I am currently spending my summer living in an apartment I rent during the school year that is adjacent to my college's campus while I work nearby. My roommates are home for the summer, so I have the place to myself, but several members of my fraternity are also still in town, and we decided to head to the bar. Thursday night's are always packed. The newest bar in town is also the cheapest, and Thursday night's are a binge drinker's fantasy; $.25 drafts and rails all night.

The bar, which will be known as "Sluggers", is a huge sports bar. It boasts a front bar outfitted much like a sports one, with tables and flat-screen TVs tuned to ESPN. In the back is another bar, complete with a DJ and a dance floor. But, it also has an upstairs, which runs the length of both downstairs bars, with a bar that runs the entire depth of the building and a dance floor to match. Needless to say, this place can hold a lot of people. Combine that shear size with cutthroat prices, and you have an absolute shit show.

Now, as a not yet 21-year old, I am not quite old enough to enter the establishment. However, I have been outfitted since my early college days with identification that indicates otherwise. On this night, however, brandishing the counterfeit proved trickier. Perhaps because in recent weeks it has been flooded with awkward pre-pubescent teens, Sluggers deemed this a college night. No problem , except as a stupid freshman I feared if I ever lost the id, and it had my name on it, perhaps I would be tracked down and arrested for having a fake id. So, naively, I spelled my last name wrong on it, so it does not match my student id. Most of the time, this is met with an aww shucks look from me, a roll of the eyes from the roided up freak checking ids, and a pass through the doorway. But on this night, the bar was charging $5 for students of my university, and $10 for everyone else. My interest in the evening was saving money, and I did not want to deal with the possible bullshit and have to pay the full $10 to get in. So, I decided, hey, lets be honest, show them my real id which has a name that matches my student id, I'll give the standard aww shucks, and be let in for $5.

Not so fast, my friend.

"You aren't old enough," Barry Bonds-light says.

"What are you talking about?" an incredulous Carter retorts.

"You have to be 21 to come in."

"But those girls have braces and pig tails and you let them in," I say with a chuckle as I walk towards the front door.

Bouncer didn't like that.

"Yo, asshole, you aren't 21, you aren't getting in."

"So, if I came in with an ID from R. Kelly's recording studio that says I was 21 and had a developing set of tits, you'd let me in, but instead, since I won't be 21 for two weeks and admitted that to you, it's illegal for you to let me in the building?"

Now I've angered the beast.

"All right, fuck you, get the fuck out, look us up in two weeks."

"I hope you are still open in two weeks, but it's not a definite since you are letting in girls to sell thin mints while they drink," I retort over my shoulder as I retreat from the bar.

The world's fascination with the rules is astounding. This guy was unwilling to let me, at 20 years and 49 weeks, into a bar I have been to probably 50 times because I admitted it to him. But, had I lied, I would not have had a problem. The idea that a lie overrules the law seems silly, because the law is in place to protect the teenagers I taunted the bouncer for allowing through the doors.

Just a thought of the day; rules are there for a reason, but they don't always make sense. Ask some questions. Form your own opinion. And lie when you go to the bar.