Inspired by a rant over at An Indian Summer, I thought I'd give my few experiences with being carded. Oh, that was so long ago for me. My wife, who is slightly older than I, actually got carded very recently. Guess I'm not aging well.
The first time I got carded was when I was still eighteen. Dateline: Brunswick, Maine. A cashier (who was obviously not a native of Maine, or even a resident of any length of time), asked for ID when I tried to buy a six-pack of Moxie. Click through the link, and tell me how anyone could imagine that it's a beer can. I had to have a manager summoned to explain to the cashier that Moxie is just a soda.
Oddly enough, the first time I ever actually bought anything alcoholic (not at the same store), after I was 21, the cashier didn't ask to see my ID. I started to offer it to her anyway, but she waved me off. "It's okay, I've seen your ID before." Except for the fact that I'd never shown it to anyone, except for checkwriting purposes, I would have believed her.