Rants and Ramblings: random commentary about culture, media, politics, technology and whatnot.

borderline

Crossing the border into Canada was a breeze.

After an almost two-hour drive, we pulled in line at the Canadian border crossing and fairly quickly made it to the front. (Our progress seemed especially quick when compared with the long, slow-moving line waiting to cross into the United States.)

Our border agent was a fairly good-natured man of Asian descent with a distinctive Canadian accent. He collected our passports and looked us over one-by-one as he flipped through the blue booklets. Then he briefly questioned us, trying to make his queries sound like interested chit-chat.

AGENT: Where are you all from?
US: (in turn) Indiana, Louisiana, Washington, D.C.
AGENT: How do you all know each other?
US: From college.
(This was mostly true. Explaining the nature my affiliation would have needlessly overcomplicated things.)
AGENT: So you’re all friends from university?
US: (all nod)
AGENT: Got any weapons?
US: Nope.
AGENT: (waving us by) Go on through.