The Plight of the Underage

by Maxine Riskant

Upon hearing that Jimmy’s cousin would be checking IDs at the bar that night, Haley went home, borrowed her sister’s pink push-up bra and stole her driver’s license out of her wallet, slid into some capri pants and seven-dollar heels, and curled her hair until smoke rose from the barrel. She pulled up in front of the bar in a too-small jeans jacket with a lipstick-coated cigarette moistly hanging from the corner of her mouth. Fully prepared to wave her inside the door so he could get a nice, long look at her ass, the bouncer glanced at Haley’s ID, paused, and said, “Your I.D. is expired, sweetheart, which means I can’t let you in.” Had Haley not been a virgin and clueless about carnality, she might have offered sexual favors in return for getting in the bar. Instead, she had to walk back to her mother’s car, the clacking sound of her cheap shoes echoing off the damp pavement, slide behind the wheel, and drive away while maintaining her composure. After all, no one cried over an expired license.


Maxine Riskant is a pseudonym for Maxine Dangerous which is a pseudonym for a writer in an unnamed U.S. city who doesn’t make a living off her writing. Yet. Visit her blog, here's your gravy.