Bars make me ridiculously paranoid. Probably because I’m supposed to have never been in one, seeing how I am still 20 years old and underage. But I’ve looked like I was 21 since I was 12 so I’ve never been given any problems.
I would love to avoid bars but unfortunately my parents like to go and if I want any family bonding time I have to tag along. There is one bar around town called Cindy’s Downtown where they like to go. They’re good friends with everyone who works there and I don’t make a lot of ruckus so no one ever really gives me any problems for being under 21.
The entire time I sit at my bar stool, sipping my water, barely aware of the conversation because I am constantly worried that at any moment a cop is going to burst into the bar and arrest me.
I’m not drinking, I’m not causing a scene, and I’m there with my parents. I am doing nothing wrong of any kind and yet that arbitrary rule of “You Must Be 21 to Enter” looms over my head. I’m not a rule breaker. I’ve written on this blog about how I rarely even jay walk. So I can never relax.
I mean, I never even really want to be in that bar anyway, so I always seem to dwell on how stupid it would be to get in trouble for being in a situation where I really didn’t want to be in the first place. But still I go, containing my worries silently in my head as I stare blankly at the sports game on the TV, knowing that any moment a cop is planning a bust and has me in the crosshairs.