OOH No Canada

OOH No Canada – The failed border crossing.

I depart Seattle after being a drunken ass at my friend Evans place for a week straight and make my way to Canada. I leave my friends apt very early and arrive, after many transfers, at the entrance to Canada. I smoke all my weed, ditch my pipe and put all knives in backpack for quick access by the border guards. Next,  I exchanged my cash for Canadian and approach the gate. Confused, I go to US entry where they half ass tell me how to enter Canada. I manage to find my way to the walk in terminal where I am summoned to the booth of a beautiful Canadian Border Patrol Officer where she plays 20 questions with me and a male officer takes up

position behind me.

“Any drugs, alcohol, weapons or anything illegal?”, the female officer asks.

“I have a two knives, a hatchet and a flask of rum in my bag. I smoked all my weed and ditched my pipe before coming to the checkpoint.”, I cheerfully respond.

“Why Canada?”, continuing her interrogation.

“Because I hear you have a beautiful country and good people.”

“Where you going?”

“I am going to Alaska to meet up with a friend, find work and do wilderness training.”

“Why Alaska?”

“My friend is a woman I am interested in.”

“Why Canada and have you ever been before?”

“First time in Canada and first time I am trying to use my passport.”

“Why did you get your passport?

Where you going in Alaska and why?

How much cash you got?

You cannot make it with that much.”, she declares.

(Not a question but a statement. Should of been a question because I can go far with none.)

The questions are fired quickly from here. “How are you to travel?

Military?

Job in the military?

Life goals?

Favorite color?(not really)

Where you coming from?

Where did you get the kilt?”

(Best and most intelligent question I have recieved on my kilt. )

During the questioning I almost lose myself to hit on a Super Sexy Canadian Border Control Agent. I barely manage to control myself and I let the, whoa, SSCBCA walk by. Never in my life had I wanted to be frisked so bad and never in my life did acting a fool at an international terminal look so appealing. I bark,  under my breath,  and refocus on my current SSCBCA. At this point the female officers asks me to empty my pockets. I laugh because of all the random things I carry in my pockets, of which my camo blouse has many. After emptying my pockets she has me shake out my waistband on my kilt.

More questions!

“How long you been traveling like this?

When you going for life goals?

Why Canada?

Health care?

Working?

Last job?

Future work?”, she bombards me even further with questions.

At this point, I understand I am failing her assessment. She gives me a sheet with all the things you need to enter Canada, of which I have none besides the passport. So I am denied entry into “Club Canada” because I did not meet the “dress code”. Mostly it seemed she was more concerned with me trying to get healthcare and steal jobs. Sounds a bit familiar!? Ha!

“You have a spoon and lighter, you know what that makes me think? “, said my SSCBCA.

“That you know I like cake a lot!

Do you guys got cake?”

“Canada has cake.”

“No, do you have cake right now? For me to eat now? That is why I carry a spoon.”

(Did not feel to go threw whole story as to why I carry a spoon.)

“May I go threw the bag?”

(like I got a choice)

“Help yourself.”, knowing full well the big mess that is about to be created when they open my bag.

The female officer instructs me to gather my pocket belongings as she attempts to pick up my bag. The female officer can barely budge my bag so the male officer picks it up and with many grunts he takes over to a table for inspection. They continue their questions, now tag teaming back and forth. These questions have less to do with security and more so just to pass the time. I tell them if my plan for House13oom, my hobo handyman business and the story behind each item I carry. It takes at least thirty minutes to rummage through my belongings and after a quick repack, the female officer gives me a piece of paper that says I “will be allowed to leave Canada.” The officer then escorts me out to the path to re enter US territory. A quick pass thru US customs office and I am back in Sumas, WA.

Sumas is a quaint little town with dirt cheap beer prices, beautiful hills and a snow capped mountain in the distance. I reacquire my pipe from near the abandoned fast food building I chilled at before attempting the border crossing. The building has a table and a wall blocking the view from the back, a great little nook to relax at. Depressed and confused, and I buy a couple beers and drink myself to sleep. The next day I repeat this twice, once in the morning and once at night, All the while racking my head to figure out what I want and how to do it.  I way all my options and toss them out as I find which works out more in long run. I think Work in Washington to get trip to Alaska, go to Wyoming for work or go to Oregon for hippy fest, sightseeing and work towards Alaska. Upon waking the next day, surprisingly not that hungover,  I am feeling great. I still know not what I am to do for long run, so I look at what I can do, which is to head back into Bellingham which is what has to happen either way.

I have a couple hours to use before the next bus so I go searching for cigarette butts. While on my search a gentleman, seeing my quest, gives me a pack. From there I go in search of Wi-Fi. I find it at a local museum but before I can log on a lady informs me that there is soup and food bank going on down the block at the library. Upon arriving I notice they are closing up. I am welcomed very well by the Lions Club that was hosting the event. They load me up on food, dig out the soup from the car and send me off with a big cup of soup. I return to the museum, eat the soup and begin my research for travel plans. While searching I get a video call from the woman I am trying to get to, a very nice surprise. ❤ I find it is fairly cheap to get to Portland, OR and I even got enough cash for it. So, plan as it stands,  Cannon Beach, OR is my next destination. Because a friend has been posting pictures of it, another friend said it is her favorite place in the world and incase I decide to go to the hippy gathering happening soon by Johns Day. I feel I will skip it because feds are all up in the area harassing people. As for a plan it is good enough to remove anxiety and clear my vision some.

#Boomout

~ Thomas Sonic13oom

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