Baby Face

A couple weeks ago, I met John in Clearwater, Florida for the weekend since he was already down there for work.

It was so nice to escape just for a brief time and feel some sunshine (through a shield of 70 SPF of course) and walk on the beach. Late Friday afternoon, after sitting on the beach for a while, we walked up to the pool bar to get a drink. We sat on stools among all the people in Phillies shirts and hats who had just returned from a spring training game.

Before the bartender even approached us, I heard people talking about Sea Isle City and my ears perked up. No one even knew what Sea Isle was when I mentioned it in North Jersey, so hearing it mentioned all the way in Florida was exciting. A girl was talking about a bar she liked and the guy she was chatting with was trying to remember the name of the place he would go for pizza late at night...

“It’s on a corner, it's brown, you have to walk up steps to get there...”

“ANGELO”S!” I screamed as I leaned across John toward them, almost falling off my stool in my attempt to be the first to buzz in with the correct answer.

They acknowledged my answer and we exchanged brief pleasantries but then it was time to order a drink.

The bartender came up and asked what we wanted. I asked for a strawberry daiquiri, since it seemed like the most appropriate thing to drink while sitting poolside.

“Coming right up,” the bartender replied, picking up a cup. “But could you just raise your sunglasses quick so I can see your face?”

“No problem,” I said, and lifted my large glasses.

She squinted in the sun, looked my face up and down, put the cup back on the bar.

“Uh, yeah, I’m going to need to see ID.”

I didn’t even pretend to look in my bag, I knew my ID was up in the hotel room.

“How about a virgin strawberry daiquiri?” I asked.

“Sure, sorry, you know, it’s just spring break and all,” she explained.

They say the eyes are the window to the soul. With my sunglasses on I was getting served, with my sunglasses off I was a minor trying to pull a fast one. I guess my soul must be about nineteen.