The Border

Yesterday of course, was International Women's Day and I spent it in the United States. Correction, I spent a goodly portion of it trying to get into the United States. Our reason for this foolhardy trip was that Seth's work visa had suddenly arrived, and in order to do the paperwork necessary to have it rubber stamped, we had to cross out of Canada and then back in again.

By late morning, there was a waiting time of an hour for either crossing, but we had resigned ourselves to that. It certainly took us longer to get to the point where.....we could go into the immigration office and wait in line again. There were many officers in the office, but in true sitcom/farce stereotype, the only person doing the business we needed done, was a congenial black man. He really was congenial. He told us he'd been on duty since midnight, 13 hours, and he had another five ahead of him. So, my American chums, your borders are being guarded by ridiculously overworked people. It's probably because they realise that Canadians aren't really terrorists, they just want your Abercrombie and Fitch gear.

And we did drive down to Apple Crumble and Fish.
This is where I lose my air of confidence and it's fortunate I have Alex with me.
I have this inexplicable barrier that tells me I can't drive to or in the U.S. without Kevin, or at least an authentic Canadian. Alex tells me not to be ridiculous.
'I'll never find the way to....' she tells me again not to be ridiculous,
'I've taken the wrong turning,'
'We'll find it, I can see it from here,'
I hate driving, but I realise I'm also a lazy passenger, I don't pay attention until I have to find it myself.

In Apple Crumble, we wonder, as usual, how anyone can work there. The smell of cheap cologne that is pumped through it, the darkness, the loud music.
Never mind the quality, feel the width of the label.
And clearly, it affects their senses. And by affect I mean 'makes them disappear'.They appeared to have none.

Coming back, I anticipated an equally long wait for the Canadian border and then the stuff that had to be done in the office. Instead, it was smooth, efficient, almost exclusively female.
'Should I leave my car unlocked?' I asked the first officer,
'Only if you want to,'
'Oh!'
The other side, you have to leave it unlocked, keys on windscreen, cellphones in car.
'You don't have to lock it,' she said, 'nothing will get stolen.' I believed her. I believed that nothing would get stolen whilst she was in charge of the car park, but then I also believed it the other side, with the team of men they had guarding the cars. In both cases, I was right.

Yesterday. and today, it felt colder, it was colder. A snowflake fell.