My friend, Carolyn, and I went to Canada for a weekend. We had a blast. We weren’t sure, though, that our adventure was going to happen the way we planned it.
The border guard took our passports, which we expected. Then he asked for my driver’s license, which we did not expect. Especially since he didn’t ask for Carolyn’s and SHE was driving! He did take her peaches, though, even though she did her best to talk him into letting us keep both peaches or at least, he should eat them. He said he could not eat them, as luscious as they looked. He did offer to let us eat them there and then, however.
Then, still holding our passports (and my driver’s license), he asked us to pull over into the bay and wait for him. Uh-oh. What could this mean? We both wracked our brains for any wrong doing, but we both really do lead squeaky clean lives. Our consciences were clear.
After about a 40 minute wait, he came out and began to ask me questions.
One was, “Linda, how many states have you lived in?”
“Huh?” I thought. What does he need that for? “Only one. My whole life.” He confirmed which state, I agreed, and questioning was over. He gave us our documents back and we were free to go.
However, if something or someone was “out there” that I needed to know about, I was not going to let this pass by me.
“So, Sir—can you give me any information as to why you had these questions for me?”
He informed me another lady with my same birthdate and nearly same name (slight difference in the middle name) had a skirmish with the law some years ago that is still unresolved. That was all he could say. Ok, we thanked him and headed on our way.
We laughed at the idea that we considered ourselves so squeaky clean, yet looked like a possible felon and a carrier of contraband at the border. Phew!
Good thing we got passed along, because we had such a great time driving around Kootenay Lake and enjoying Ainsworth Hot Springs. And we got home just fine.
I still think I need to change my name.
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