My Next Battle

I’ve always been a fighter. It’s just in my nature, I guess. I fought to graduate early, petitioning to the B.O.E. and superintendent and everyone else. I fought in college to earn credit I needed but didn’t properly attain. I search for loopholes in all structures of society and see how I can wield them to my benefit. And now I’m on a mission once more.

It started as a joke a week ago. I told Shannon my personally hardest part about adjusting back home – and she said, “It’s just not fair! You should be able to make like an appeal or something!”

After this weekend, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I don’t get it. I have sampled a vast array of wine’s from all over the world and feel comfortable talking about a glasses’ grapes, nose, … I can mix dozens of cocktails, tell you details about a myriad of alcohols, explain the differences between call and top shelf booze. I’ve always been able to out drink the boys – or at least keep up. And, unlike the boys, I do know when I should stop. At Chez Michel in Mendon, a meal isn’t a meal without wine. I can’t even remember when I started having a glass with dinner so long ago or a beer with Chinese food or pizza it’s been so long. I mean, c’mon now! I’ve picked out the perfect bottle in dozens of package stores and educated some of my freshly-turned-21 friends in both the ways of beer and wine. I like to drink and always have. Plus, I’m damn good a drinking games.

Yet I can’t go out into a bar. I can’t have wine with dinner in a restaurant. I can’t be caught drunk or heading to a party where I plan to get drunk. I can talk the talk but can’t walk to walk because the law won’t let me.

Just because I’m not 21.

I don’t get it. In France waiters pushed wine on you for lunch, dinner and – well – it wouldn’t surprise me if for breakfast too. I bought so many bottles of liquor without once being asked for an id. Yet back here, the drinking world is like a totally separate entity that should be kept – at all costs – from all who don’t meet the stringent age requirements, regardless of special circumstances, level of maturity, past experience. I know a hell of a lot of 21-year-olds who should be allowed to purchase alcohol. And I know at least one 20-year-old who should have been able to since a long time ago.

It’s never really stopped me. I’ve already drank at some of the hottest bars and restaurants in Boston. I’ve had four years of college. I’ve traveled the world. I’ve lived in my own apartment, been responsible for my own self, adopted my own dog for crying out loud! I’ve worked in PR firms as more than an intern. And now I’m hesitant to move to another city and get another job because honestly, how would I make friends? When you start something new, don’t you usually meet people by going out after work for a drink? But how can you when you’re too young?

I would love to pass the winter working in a wine shop. I’d love to sell wine and learn more about it – and I’d love to be able to buy tons at discount prices. But – oh yeah – I’m not old enough. So now what?

I hate talking about it. I hate it when my family calls me out on it. I’d rather continue pretending that I’m 22 or 23 and ignore my birth certificate – which I’d like to legally change (people legally change their names, it can’t be that different?). It’s my most sensitive weakness, my deep dark secret, the thing I don’t tell anyone. I know, I have a complex. Just ask anyone.

But that still doesn’t make the whole 21-to-drink thing fair.

So that’s it. I quit. I’m ridiculously frustrated. I’m appealing to my congressman for an exception. I’ve gotta be above the law or something… ; )