I got kicked out of a bar!

Oh the hilarious irony...

So I'm with a group of 10 people at 11pm on Saturday night in Philadelphia. We go into a bar that's full of people and the waitress asks for our IDs. No problem. Then she comes back and says, "I need to take a few of your IDs up to the bar tender, just to be safe, since you're all from different states." Three of us, including me, hand her our IDs. A few minutes later, the bar tender comes to the table to give them back. "Whose is this?" It's mine. I reach for it. He points to it and says, "I can't accept this one." ??? What? Why? Because it has a sticker on it. It's my change of address sticker, I explain. That's how they do it in Oregon. But that's where my name is: on a paper sticker that's covering up whatever was originally underneath. (I realized later that my name was printed on the actual card, but it was small and he must not have noticed it.) So I have to go. Everyone else can stay, but not me. Even if I don't drink anything? Nope. My housemate Dan tries to stand up for me, which is not a good idea. So we all decide to leave and walk back through the cold to the Philly JV's house.

Irony #1: I'm the oldest person in the group by about a year. I'm 24, everyone else is 22/23 Irony #2: Have you ever seen me drink more than a few sips of an alcoholic beverage?
Irony #3: I'm tired and fighting a cold and I'm just tagging along to be social
#2 + #3 = All I want is some lemon water for my sore throat!
Irony #4: I really don't care whether I stay or go.
Irony #5: I'm driving, so that I can leave early and go home if I want to.

It was annoying, and I felt bad for everyone else, but I couldn't help laughing at the pure irony of the whole situation!