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More Border Bullshit
I spent 17 torturous hours in my car on Monday. Left my house in Toronto at 6:30 a.m. and didn't arrive at Eigh's place until just before 12 a.m. Tuesday. It took me over an hour to get across the Ambassador Bridge in Detroit, only to be turned back to Canada because I am unemployed. I couldn't believe it when the bastard of a U.S. border guard (whose fucking face would have cracked if he actually knew how to smile) put a big red sticker on my passport, placed it under one of my windshield wipers, told me to pull my car over for "a more extnesive search," and then asked me to head into the immigration office. In the office, a customs official proceeded to search my entire wallet, taking out personal lists and reading them. I felt so violated. Then I was given a sheet that stated: At this point in time, you do not appear to be clearly admissable to enter the United States as a temporary visitor for pleasure. I wasn't quite sure what to do. Our fucking immigration offices were keeping us apart. Eigh didn't get into Canada last month because of a DWI conviction two years ago and now I couldn't get into the U.S. The prick told me to go through the toll, then turn the car around and head back to the Canadian side, where my passport would be returned. What I did instead, however, was take the westbound Detroit exit, gunned the gas, and headed towards Wisconsin. I kept looking in my rearview mirror, expecting to see flashing police lights behind me. After about 15 minutes of driving like an hysterical madwoman, I decided I didn't really feel like being a fugitive on the run in the U.S. Not to mention the fact that I really wanted my passport back... So I returned to the border, got the passport without a problem and headed for an alternate border. Although it took me five hours and about 500 km out of my way, I didn't particularly care when I was given the green light to proceed into the U.S. at the other border crossing. Once I got out of earshot, I yelled "WOO HOO" several times at the top of my lungs and proceeded to the closest telephone booth to inform Eigh of my success. My only worry, once it got dark when I was still about 150 miles outside of Chicago, was that I might fall asleep in the car. I remedied that by opening my car window, sucking back as much caffeine as possible and smoking like a fiend. When I finally pulled up in front of Eigh's place, I almost passed out when I got out of the car. But I made it here once again and here I will stay, for at least another week...
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