"Sorry, but we don't allow underaged persons into this club. You must be 18 and above"

I looked at the bouncer with my jaw drooping. Underaged ke? Me? I was old enough to birth this idiot. Okay, maybe not birth him, but if comparison were to be made, either we were the same age or I was his senior. And yet, here we stood, face to face. 

With him calling me underage. I walked away from him and back into the car. 
Resting my head on the staring wheel, a million thoughts ran through my mind like chickens let out of their coop. 

I still couldn't fathom why this one would think I was some minor trying to get into the club. And then it hit me. 

First things first, my face was as bare as a baby's buttocks. And it wasn't because I had recently shaved. 

No, on the contrary, I'd never gone past a few wispy strands of hair on the chin and above the upper lip. 

Coupled with the fact that I actually did look relatively young, I must have appeared to the bouncer as a 14 year old.
I was also of a small stature. My nickname was even small but mighty. I reckon I must have looked like a toothpick next to this guy. 

As if it wasn't enough, mother nature decided to remind me that my voice, although not like that of a child, wasn't exactly baritone either. It was somewhere in the middle of a squeaking mouse and a neighing horse. 

Looking up at the heavens, I cursed whoever was incharge of puberty affairs. I was well over it and yet I still looked like a 13 year old. Oh, cruel fate was. I resigned to my fate and started up the car. I'd be back. 

My Enemies 1-0 Me. 

You can't keep a great one down. 

I'd be the last laughter.

Post a Comment

Powered by Blogger.