I was standing in the Wal Mart self-check line.
Minding my business. Feeling fine.
When a check-out clerk accosted me.
She wanted to see some State ID.
I just looked blank. And I asked her why?
And didn’t pull my wallet out to comply.
She pointed. “Right there, by your hand.
You’ve picked up items that are contraband.
In your shopping, you’ve chosen stuff
that you just can’t buy till you’re old enough.”
“What use is Rain-X ‘cept cleaning glass?
Do kids get high on Sharpies in class?”
She shrugged, but didn’t explain to me.
She said: “It’s Wal Mart’s policy.”
She looked at my hair, all snowy white, and said,
I guess it will be all right.”
So I took my stuff, went through the door,
and scratched my head as I left the store.
There’s a moral here that I don’t see.
The world is plain confusing to me.
Living the Aging Life 