The Longest Undefended Border…


Buffalo NY

Buffalo NY

This is where I sat yesterday, 9:18am, PRAYING I got a guy. There is just something about a female border guard…they tend to have an ‘I have something to prove’ about them. Every time I roll through the stop sign and allow the light to flash, taking my picture for posterity, or terrorism, I come to the window and exhale when I see a guy. Yesterday’s guy didn’t look a day over 20, and it was hard for me to take him seriously as he asked the usual “Where are you going?” “What’s your business there?” “How long have you been gone?” “What brought you to Canada.” THANKSGIVING!!! My good friends might be able to hear me cheering that and I am pretty sure it warranted the stunned look from this patrol guard. “Do you always cheer for thanksgiving?” he asked. Yes. Turkey is no joking matter. I DID just drive 12 hours to eat my dad’s turkey; and spend time with my family of course.

This was one of the less eventful trips through the border. In the past twelve years I have spoken to numerous guards, of both genders, and recently I crossed and encountered an Asian border guard. Does that make sense?

It reminds me of one time when I crossed. The border guard must have been 50 or so, and I handed him my documents as I rolled up to the window. He glanced at my paper work, looked at me and asked me what I did for a living in the US. I said I taught university. Then he stated that I must make good money; I winced one eye and said “ehh.” Then he asked “are you married?”

“Umm…no.”

Good, he said, then get out a piece of paper.

If there is one thing you must know about the border, you do as you’re told. They reserve the right to deny entry for any reason. I fumbled through my console, and handed him one. Now he demanded a pen. I fabricated one, and he then proceeded to scribble something down. Mind you, at this point he has not addressed a single question I am fairly certain they are REQUIRED to ask at the border. When he finished scribbling, he passed me the paper. “Now, that’s my name and number, when you get home I want you to call me so I can take you on a date.”

I start looking around. Where are the cameras!?!? I have to be on Candid camera. Nope. This was for real. I responded as I usually do in awkward situations like this, with nervous laughter. He kept a straight face and said, “Go on, get to Newmarket or wherever you are from and I will be expecting to hear from you.”

I put the car into drive and pulled away from the guard shack, shook my head, and drove home.

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2 thoughts on “The Longest Undefended Border…

  1. So Renee, the big question is…did you call him? I can relate to your crossing the border stories but I’ve never had quite the same experience as you…teehee! Love reading your blog, your entries are a moment of entertainment in my day!

    • Haha, aww…Becky!! Thanks for reading 🙂

      I got home, told my parents the story and subsequently threw his phone number in the trash. He let me across the border, that’s all I needed 😉

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