Let’s talk about guns, specifically how when I was crossing
the border using my Uncle’s truck when I went to Canada last week and my fear
that I was going to be labeled a terrorist. Or a drug pusher. Sex trafficker or
single white female... Whatever! Something awful.
Yes, I said it.
Me, a white girl.
The biggest terrorist in this world are white people. And
yet they are the ones who get passes and labeled “mentally ill” instead of what
they actually are. That is an overly opinionated in a political opinion/statement.
Anyway, I went to meet a friend I had met while living in
Michigan in Canada the Sunday before I left, I was using my uncles truck as I
said and my uncle is a redneck in every sense of the word. He grew up in
backwoods Kentucky and has a collection of guns that he couldn’t possible ever use all of to defend himself. But don’t take his guns. (Side note, watch this video, it is
hilarious.)
Getting into Canada was relatively easy, Canadian border patrol
agents are nice… and hot. I think that is a requirement for Canada because the
multiple times that I have crossed the Detroit/Windsor border, I have yet to
talk to an unattractive border patrol agent. Are you attractive? Okay you can work here,
eh.
When I was coming back though, panic seared through me as
they asked me to move into the “Second holding” check system. Immediately I thought there was going to be a
hidden sawed off shot gun, because… because my uncle is just that kind of
freak. They had me exit the vehicle
leaving behind my phone and DS and proceed to a cold steel gray holding rooms
while they proceeded to check my uncles truck.
I ran through every possible scenario I could in the
20-minutes-that-felt-like-an-hour that I was there.
First there was the fact that I declined to advise them I
had met up with this Canadian friend, because really, they seem to always have
a shit ton of questions when you tell someone you are meeting someone from the
Internet. I promise you, we’re only having coffee and eating a donuts at the
local Tim Horton's. I have no plans for world domination that would involve
linking up with a Canadian guy. (Obviously they are too nice to have as a sidekick
in conquering the world.) I just explained that I had gone to the casino, which
was not a lie, it was true.
Then there was the fact that in the 2 years I have lived
here, I have yet to change my Driver’s License from Michigan because it allows
me to fly and use the airport. And because… I am lazy. How do I explain to them
that I no longer live in Troy and am breaking the law by not getting my Arizona
License since I am technically an Arizona residence? That doesn’t scream shady
at all. I promise I don’t even like drugs.
But mostly, what if they found guns or knives or whatever
other paraphernalia you are not supposed to cross the border with. I can’t go
to jail! I’m too pretty… and weak.
Seriously though, they checked the car found a small pocket
knife and my Uncles insulin needles. They thought nothing of it and let me go a
few minutes later sans movie interrogation…
And that was the most exciting part of my trip to
Michigan. My 20-minutes with the Border Patrol.
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