I want Collars!

[This post assumes you read the last one]

As they were trying to come up with their answers, Caity and Rebecca came and sat with Marcellus and me. (Yes, it’s “Me,” not “I.” More on this blunder people make another time.)

Anyway, they were talking about beer, and as a former American I was thinking 21, the legal drinking age in America. Even up here it’s 18, so it shouldn’t have been a problem. However, after they left, Marcellus informed me that there was no way those girls were 18. I was incensed.

“You mean I sat here and…looked at them as women and they’re underage?” I bellowed. We brought Jaime over and she confirmed they were 16 or at most 17, and pointed out this was the reason they were hostesses and not servers: they couldn’t legally serve alcohol to customers.

I was in shock. Long-time readers know I guard against this sort of thing, for precisely that reason. The way girls look, dress and act these days, it can be impossible to tell. (Although, I’d like to point out Marcellus knew the whole time and just didn’t tell me; wanting to enjoy my splutters of rage afterward.)

I’m not blaming the two girls. They were lovely and didn’t pretend. It was my fault. But really, I blame society. This is getting to be an epidemic. Which is why I am proposing that underage girls have to wear a collar of some kind.

At first I suggested we cut them in half to count the rings like trees, but obviously this would be impractical (do they even have rings?) In which case the collar is a better idea. Or, perhaps Marcellus had the right idea with a xenon-imbedded chip in their neck that would glow ultra-violet under the right light, until they were 18 when it would wear out.

I’m going to have a LOT more to say on this later, but I wanted to get it out there in case readers had ideas too.