Me, clearly no longer in my 20s, approaching the point where 30something is becoming less and less plausible: "Age, my young friend, is but a social construct. I feel 25. Now kindly let me purchase the alcohol, that I'm going to use to forget the discrepancy between how I feel and what my drivers license says, and the mistakes I've made in the years since society agreed with me about my age."

Pimply faced clerk, with squeaky voice, staring at me confused and a little bit afraid that the deranged person might be dangerous: "please, I just need your age sir"

Wife: "oh FFS! He's XX, honey you're muttering again, the nice clerk is getting scared"