Twenty-one bottles of beer on the wall! Twenty-one bottles of beeeeeeer!

Dan's got me thinkin' about my 21st birthday.  I can remember it like it was yesterday - which it soooo wasn't!

I had gone to the local grocery store at midnight, waited a few minutes and then filled my buggy full of liquors, vodkas, beer and wine coolers.

I heaved and hemmed my way up to the registers where a lone cashier stood looking bored and irritated at the same time in his standard-issued blue smock.

He sighed and began slowly ringing up my alcoholic purchases. 

I smiled and waited for him to say those magic words:  "Can I see your I.D.?"

He looked at me and put a hand through his greasy, spikey hair and said:  "That's be [a crap load of money]"

I was confused.  I had waited 21 years for this moment.  This single instant that would cement me into my role as a full-fledged adult and - this was it?! 

This was more of a let-down than when I lost my virginity.

And at least THAT took 2.2 minutes.

"Don't you want to see my I.D.?" I prompted.

"What?  Oh, sure.  Whatever."  He barely looked at the card.

Later that night while the party raged on I was pretending to drink a Zima with Grenadine ( I figured out - a bit too late - that I don't care much for alcoholic beverages) I pondered how my life would now change - I was 21 - no longer branded a teenager or "underage" for such adult things as drinking and - more drinking. 

Just then a gorgeous man appeared in the doorway.  He was raven-haired and had dimples that rivaled that of any screen legend.  He was tall and muscular.  Was this my birthday present?, I wondered to myself.

I opened my mouth to speak to him and swiftly and deftly dropped my Zima.  I spattered myself, my chair, my carpet and the jeans of the cute boy.

My face was as pink as my shirt as I contemplated, just for second, mopping the spilled drink from his nether-regions with my napkin. 

"Luckily" his girlfriend was there to stop me.

And that, dear readers, is how I spent my 21st birthday. My foray into adulthood ended - with me on my knees, covered in pink like a Gwar concert reject and fully sober. 

Wheeee.