I think every town probably has the bar or distributor where everyone knows they will sell beer to anybody. There was one like that in Montvale, where I grew up. It was called BevCo and you knew it sold to anyone because it was storied that they sold to this guy Mike Lovito when I was in high school, and he was really short. Maybe you're thinking he wasn't that short, but he was short because he had like a hormonal imbalance that caused shortness. There were three people who worked there: two guys and a woman. The secret was to go when the woman was working there.

Eventually too many people got hip to what was going on and the MPD had a sting operation on BevCo, so things were tight for about a month. But me and my friend Tom were pretty regular, so after things settled we tried our luck again (when the woman was working of course).

We got some pounders and I took them up to the register and the

woman

woman said, "I need some ID." So I told her my license had been stolen while I was eating at the Olive Garden. She asked what year I was born in and I said 1980, but then she looked at Tom and asked him; she didn't even ask if he had his license.

He said "1980, too," which is bad because it sounds like "1982." The cashier just looked at him and said what and he said it again "1980, too."

I thought he was just being stupid because he was born in 1982. She didn't say anything and then worst of all Tom enunciated it, like she was stupid: "nine-teen-eighty-two." It was bad for a second, so I said something like, "And I'll have cashews with my order."

Things worked out that night, but in the months afterward the police hit BevCo hard. It is my hope that years of underage selling bolstered their legal fund.