Today at Subway

So today I decided to go to the good ol' subway for lunch and get a fantastic $5 footlong meatball marinara. I go through the line, order my sub the way I like- meatball on jalapeno cheese bread with pepper jack cheese, onions, lettuce, jalapenos, and chipotle southwest sauce, all toasted- and proceeded to the register. I hand the cashier my debit card and so asks to see my ID. She looks intently at the name and picture, lifts her eyes to make the connection with the picture, double checks the names on both cards, hands me my ID and swipes the card. As the card is being authorized she proceeds to say

"Other than the paint on your forehead you look the same."

Other than the paint on my forehead? I'm dressed in business casual. Do I look like a painter? I haven't been around paint in over a year. What about the massive beard that I didn't have when I was 18? That doesn't look any different. As I continued to tell her that the "paint on my forehead" was actually a skin disease she did not apologize. She instead said that she assumed because "I got paint on my head once when the brush hit my head." Yeah, I'm so retarded with a paint brush I forgot my head wasn't the wall.