Ryan and Rowdy (some "dready" friends from Santa Cruz) were in town. I had been gladly taxiing them around town, and we stopped at Plaid Pantry for beer and cigarettes. Plaid Pantry is like 7-11. A convenience store, that doesn't sell gas. We went inside and picked a sixer of PBR (we po') and proceeded to the cashier. She was a young girl, maybe early 20s, kinda goth-y (I'm not normally the kind of person that puts stereotypes on people, but she was, in fact, kinda goth-y) and obviously in a bad mood. She asked for ID, which Ryan quickly obliged and then the cashier said, "I need hers, too." and pointed at Rowdy.
Now, Rowdy isn't the type of person to carry around her identification for reasons I cannot divulge, and she put up quite a fight, claiming that the cashier was being discriminatory to them because of the way they looked. Rowdy hadn't touched the beer and she was not paying for it, so why do they need her ID? The cashier explained that anyone accompanying someone else purchasing alcoholic beverages must prove that they are also over 21.
Ryan was pissed. He and Rowdy exited the Plaid Pantry and got halfway to the car when Ryan doubled back and went back in. "I forgot to get cigarettes" he said to the cashier. She looked around, as if to check if anyone was looking, and said, "I'm technically not supposed to sell these to you because she didn't have her ID, but I will this time."
He looked shocked. "So... you can break one rule, but not another?! Sell me the beer then!!" Ryan shouted, making a scene. The cashier asked Ryan to leave, without selling him anything, and he did, but not before announcing to the world, "This is the PLAYED Pantry!"
To this day, we still call it "Played Pantry"... or just "Played" for short.