We sat in the dark, soaked from the torrential, sideways rain, and looked at the Toledo, Ohio skyline while sipping our cocktails and beers. It was all we could do while waiting for the power to come back on, or for the bartenders to figure out how to process the credit card tabs without machines, in total darkness. Once they did, they called out names as loud as they could. “Joshua!” Luckily, we heard her call, and beckoned her over to our table. Josh used his lighter to see the bill and sign in. We were only charged for half of our drinks. I guess that saying about the silver lining is true.
Some birthday! I thought, but not in the pessimistic, I-just-want-to-give-up-and-drink-at-home way. I was loving every minute of my birthday so far because of how unique it was. I mean, who gets completely drenched and then held captive due to power outages at a classy riverside bar on their twenty-first? But then the tornado warnings came, and some of my friends expressed concerns. I told them: “leave if you want, but no tornado’s going to cancel my birthday!” All my friends stayed right by my side, through all the Irish pubs, dance clubs, dive bars, and classy joints we could visit before 2am.
We made a point to pick bars that had men at the door checking IDs. Toledo had a lot of places with bartenders-slash-owners who wouldn’t really bother asking for ID, which is something I caught on to very quickly. As long as you confidently ordered something classic or hard, it was pretty easy. In fact, I had gone to so many bars before turning 21 that I feared my birthday would be meaningless. I was happy that it turned out to be such a fun night, free of drama, and full of interesting and funny photos, but I was even happier that my 21st really ended up meaning something to me. Turning 21 meant that I could finally be independent. I no longer needed to remind my friends that I was underage when planning activities for the night, or have someone buy a bottle on my behalf. Browsing the wine section at a store no longer felt wrong. Not to mention, it opened up a much bigger world of possibilities for weekend (and weekday night) activities.
When I go to the bar now, several months later, I still feel this sense of empowerment. Maybe it’s because of all the times I went to bars as an 18-year-old, dreading a conscientious bartender. Maybe it’s just unreasonable paranoia. But I still feel a jolt of fearful adrenaline when I hear the magic question: “Can I see your ID?” But unlike before, I can reach into my pocket, pull out a piece of plastic, and answer with unwavering confidence: “Yes, of course.” I’m sure that someday, being carded won’t be as big of a deal, but I hope that this sense of independence that turning 21 has given me never wears off.
-PeezyJay