The Canada Experience: No Sleep Till Fairfield!

June 6th: The drive home was OK with one lone, glaring, exception. US Customs on the Canadian border have to be the biggest dickwads in the universe (props to my boy who's holdin it down at JFK, but dude, these border cats don't even know English). The lines were moving like mud because they were looking to find something wrong with every person who was coming back into the country. Once I finally got the front of the line I was asked where I was going and why I had gone to Canada. I thought these were normal questions, just like when I had crossed the other way. Then things got strange, very very strange. After I told him I was there for a wedding he asked me, in a very accusatory tone, "oh? Who was getting married!" I kept my cool, said it family, but he kept being a dick. "Who'd she marry?" Said, again, in a vitriolic tone as if he was grilling someone brought in for murder. He then wanted to know if I had any Canadian goods. Now to me this means things that are from Canada. For instance, had the Canadian person asked me if I had American good I would have said "yes, my belongings." In this case all I had from Canada was a stuffed moose that was sitting my backseat that my nieces had given to me. I said, "this is it." The border guard then asked me to pop the trunk, which I did. The whole time I was being as nice as possible to this retard. In the trunk were a few wine bottles I offered to take back for my parents since they were flying and I was driving. Dude flipped out. "How come you didn't tell me about the liquor bottle when I asked it you had Canadian goods!?!?!" The simple answer, of course, if that they didn't fall under the category of Canadian goods. Had he been like the Canadian border person and asked if I had alcohol or tobacco I would have said yes. I told him, straight up, if they're a problem he could take them, but he wanted blood. He tore the fuck up outta my trunk. When I checked on it the lining was all kinds of fucked up. He told me to pull up and go into the building they had. I asked if I could have my passport back and he mumbled something about the building. I asked louder, "excuse me, could I have my passport back," and she turned to me and screamed "YOU'LL GET IT BACK IN THE BUILDING!" Dude really seemed like a failed high school athlete who was mad at the world for his own shortcomings. He should simply be happy he's employed. I went in the building and after all that hoopla and all of that guy's screaming all I had to do was pay $14.25 fine.

After all that craziness the rest of the drive home was a breeze. I was REALLY tempted to go to Cooperstown since it was on the way but decided not to since I really did need to get home. Once home I found out that I'm not only going to Hot 97's Summer Jam next weekend, but I'm also going to the Britney Spears / Eamon concert on the 22nd at The Meadows in Hartford! :o)