How old do you think I am?

I have heard it happening to others but I can't remember it ever happening to me. Not for fifteen years at least. But yesterday it was my turn. To show my driving licence to prove I'm old enough to buy wine at the state run alcohol shop. I have almost forgotten what age would be underage.

Even though my order included cooking wine (who buys cooking wine when you are nineteen or twenty?), the young man at the counter thought I might be trying something. It was with a big smile and "of course you can see my driving licence" that I proved that his suspicion was unfounded.

If the young man at the counter made my day, which was otherwise pretty disappointing, Beautiful J made my evening. We met at the corner of our two streets already at five o'clock. Then we decided to spend the evening at our local pub. Yes, there is a proper English pub around the corner from where we live. It was crowded as it should be. We managed three pints of lager each and talked, talked, talked. Much has happened in the last couple of months and we were both eager to fill the gaps and let the other person in on our deepest thoughts.

Unused to the amount of beer, my head is heavy today. But my mind is light and that's what matters more.