I entered the border crossing plaza and handed the officer my passport. He asked me a few questions about why I was there, checked out the temporary registration on my vehicle, and welcomed me to Canada.
Now let's talk about the return to my own country! I entered the border crossing plaza and handed the officer my passport. I was interrogated - for what seemed like an hour (okay it was ten minutes); as if I was some sort of a criminal.
What am I transporting in the car?
My clothes and a laptop.
Am I carrying firearms?
No.
Am I carrying ammunition?
No.
Did anyone give me firearms?
No.
Where is my license plate?
Just registered the car; it has a temporary plate.
Why?
It was purchased out of state.
Am I carrying drugs?
What!!!? No.
Where am I going?
Home to CT
Am I driving all the way through?
No planning on finding a place to sleep soon.
Where did I stop tonight?
To take a leak. (I was started getting to get – no pun intended – pissed at this guy)
Where?
Some travel plaza about an hour back
Go ahead! (he hands me back my documents)
Thanks for doing such a thorough job. (I think he wanted to arrest me with that comment)
The whole time I was having flashbacks of when mom was trying to catch me in a lie; or when the boss called me into an office to talk to my work. Okay it's 11:00 at night and a guy with a propeller on his head in a car with a temporary registration is crossing the border. I guess that screams trouble???
But I found it odd how welcoming the Canadian Officer was and how abrasive my fellow American acted towards me. It was like good cop-bad cop or good boss-bad boss.
But then again, maybe his supervisor was watching? Maybe he had a fight with his wife/partner that night? Maybe he had a headache? Maybe he was doing his job? Maybe he was having fun and gets his kicks being abrasive? Maybe this type of stuff shouldn't bother us? Maybe he had other motivations?
Maybe we should all look at the tone we use to communicate with one another?
Did I say I love the Canadians?
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