Rite of passage?

God, you can tell it’s the school summer holidays. Not only is the shopping centre full of roaming packs of goth wannabes and scarily young girls dressed in clothes that I would blush to wear, there is a young invasion in the pubs. The other night I was out with Mr Flirt. We went for a drink before dinner and found ourselves next to a table of 15 year olds.

Two girls and a lad, obviously trying so hard to act older, they were signing a birthday card and ordering food. They then went on to look at the cocktail menu, finally deciding on some strange combination involving WKD (some kind of weird alco-pop thing I think) and port – what’s that all about? I know trying to get served in pubs is a tradition (hell, I started drinking in pubs at 14) but, please, at least order something decent and not so full of sugary shit that you have just confirmed your appointment with the God of the Toilet Bowl.

I’m one of those people that have always looked older than they actually are (great when I was a teenager, something I’m not overly happy with now!) and have been served cigarettes and in pubs since I was 14 and then alcohol in shops and getting into nightclubs since 15, not once have I been asked for id. Best Friend was asked only a couple of weeks ago; she was embarrassed, I told her to be happy as she obviously has several years before she needs to start worrying about her looks. Mr Flirt told me that when he was younger (I guess about 15) he had two fake id’s – one to say he was 14, so could get half price bus fares and one to say he was 18, so he could get served alcohol. In his words, the best of both worlds, he could go out, get pissed, then get the bus home cheaply!

I guess none of us are happy with our ages, when we’re younger we spend the whole time wanting to be older and vice versa. I’m 27, but spend most of my time feeling (and most people will say, acting) about 17 – but it works for me!