It started out with wanting chocolate and ended up in a World Market, you know the places, lots of vivid textiles and indifferently made furniture and lashings of wine and grub of uneven quality. We ended up with far more than I had planned to buy of Lindt and Perugina chocolates and Australian vintages. Shiraz Viognier, for god’s sake.
The little, concierge-like, vaguely European woman running the register glanced up at me as she shuffled the bottles over the bar-code scanner and said “I’ll need to see some ID please.”
The last time I got out my driver’s license was to prove eligibility for the senior discount.
Oh, make my motherfucking day.
The Perugina Bitter Dark was the best, for the record.