But, lovely waitresses of southern Oregon, none of this means I am trying to drink underage.
I understand that you have to card me. Please do- anybody damn dumb enough to try to drink in public as a minor is too damn dumb to be trusted with alcohol in the first place. You can have all the ID you want, with my compliments. Yes, I'm from Mississippi. Yes, it's very far away, isn't that interesting? Really, I don't mind at all.
But... why do you have to look at me with that triumphant look?
It's not every waitress, and it's not every time, but it does happen way more often than it should. It's that "I just caught you" tone of voice, coupled with the cat who caught the canary expression. You have to follow the law, I know that. What you don't have to do is treat me like some punk kid in front of all my friends just because I don't look like you think I should- as if 21 should be stamped on my forehead somewhere. I'm paying just as much money as they are to eat here, and I'm not doing a single thing wrong. I'm polite and respectful to you; could I please get the same?
It'd be a terribly minor little thing on its own, but this has happened three out of the last four times I've gone out, at three different restaurants (possibly because the city has just started a new anti-drink campaign). I'm just going to start drinking at home. In the closet. With the lights off. While I cry little emo tears.
TL;DR: I am a grown ass woman. Please treat me like one.