So a few weeks ago, I was carded.  Last night, I hit the other side of the equation and now feel a little ancient. 

I went with Amandarin to see American Gangster (which we both liked — I recommend it if you haven’t seen it), and the movie theater we went to out in Burbank was a little packed.  We were on our way up the escalator towards the lobby when one of the trio of high school girls behind us asked, “Excuse me, what movie are you going to go see?” Amandarin asked why, and another girl responded, “Well, we’re going to see Alive, so if that was the movie you were going to see, we were wondering if you could walk in with us.” The implied “because you definitely look safely old enough to be going to R-rated movies without getting carded and could be a parent or guardian” was definitely hanging in the air.  My ego bruised just a little, I said that no, we weren’t going to see Alive and then we got off the escalators and headed inside.  After a concession stand visit, Amandarin noticed another group of high schoolers trying to get in — who were turned away and had their tickets ripped up for good measure.

But still.  Ouch.