RV DAY 59: FEAR AND LOATHING…AT BORDER CROSSING

After we canoed back to shore, Brian, Becca, Justin, and I picked up Margaritaville and drove five hours southwest to Vancouver and checked in at the Renaissance Harbourside Hotel where we met up with Justin’s sister Briana and brother-in-law John.  We spent a four-day weekend checking off all the touristy must-dos like biking around Stanley Park, devouring delicious Asian food (it’s been too long!), taking the ferry to Granville Island, and seeing the hilarious Daniel Tosh comedy act at the Orpheum. Plus I got to visit my relatives who live there and introduced them to Justin. On Monday morning we parted ways with the others in Vancouver and continued our journey south. The following scene took place when we crossed the border from Canada to Washington via I-5 on Monday at 3:23 pm.

 

Scene I: Margaritaville is approaching the border. I quickly eat the apple I pilfered from the hotel breakfast lounge.

Justin: Everything is put away properly and I don’t intend to be inspected for anything. Sniff dogs are too low near the ground. Got it? Let’s just cross the border and be done with it.

Evan: Got it. I’m all about stealth. I could be a secret agent. In fact, I should change my career and become a secret agent.

J (bursting into laughter): No one would hire you. You’re as stealth as a four year old. What is the most unstealth job in the world? You can apply for that.

E: What are you talking about? That is precisely my cover. Because I am loud and laugh at everything, people would never suspect in a billion years that I am a double agent so they will tell me everything. And I know kung fu!

J: Karate chopping me in the back while I’m cooking does not qualify you as a kung fu master.

E: That’s what we secret agents do. We surprise attack you from behind when you’re not looking.

J: No one would hire you.

After queuing for almost half an hour at the border crossing, it is finally Margaritaville’s turn when the officer motioned for us to move to the station. We handed over our passports to the officer, a nondescript white guy with glasses who shall be named Officer # 1. Our hearts are pounding even though we haven’t committed any crime.

Officer #1: Good afternoon, guys.

J: Good afternoon.

O1: Where are you headed?

J: Seattle.

O1: How long were you in Canada?

J: About 2-3 weeks.

E (mumbling softly): Yea, 3 weeks.

O1: What were you there for? Business or recreation?

J: Recreation.

O1: Where did you visit in Canada?

J: Jasper, Banff, and Wells Gray.

E: And Vancouver.

O1 (pointing at me): Who is the passenger?

J: That’s my wife.

O1 (looking at the passport and back at us): What do you do for a living?

J: IT Consultant.

O1: Your wife?

J: Same.

O1: Do you have any food?

J: No food.

Two other officers walk over to the station – another nondescript white guy in glasses with an Asian lady in tow, and the three of them start a barely audible private conversation.

E (nervously looking at the pear inside my Longchamp bag): Oh I have  a pear.

J (thinking to himself): Good god! What the f*ck?

E (responding telepathically): Sorry sorry sorry!!! I didn’t have time to eat it.

O1: Ok guys. I’m going to ask you to pull over for an agriculture inspection. Just take this orange slip and park the RV in that lot and leave the keys in the RV. Then walk over to the office over there.

J: Ok.

Scene II: We park Margaritaville in the inspection lot along with many other cars and RVs and head over to the border security office where there are three long lines. We wait in one of the lines for a few minutes before realizing there is an “Agriculture Inspection” counter. We walk over to the counter where we are greeted by Officer #2 – the same white guy from earlier but without the Asian lady. We hand over the orange slip.

O2: How’s it going? I need you to fill out this Immigration Declaration form.

We fill out the form, declaring that we are bringing fruit into the country.

O2: Excellent. Just wait here for a few minutes for us to inspect the RV and then we’ll call you when it is over.

J: Great. Thanks.

A few long minutes pass by and Officer #2 returns with my pear. My heart continues to pound rather quickly as if I’m having heart palpitations. Paranoia is setting in, but I play it cool because I am stealth. It was the longest five minutes of my life.

O2: Ok guys you are good to go! Unfortunately, I’m going to have to take the pear because it doesn’t have a sticker on it. But it was very good you declared the fruit. I even heard you say outside that you had a pear. Otherwise, it would have been a very hefty $300 fine.

E (shocked at the outrageous penalty): Jesus! Why is it so much?

O2: We can’t mix fruit from other countries, because it’s very bad for our agriculture. The fine used to be only $50 but we keep increasing it. I don’t know why though.  Next time, just make sure you eat it before crossing the border.

E: Well, that’s good to know.

He imprints a giant stamp on the back of the orange slip and signs it.

O2: You guys are free to go. Just take this slip with you and give it to that officer on your way out.

J: Great. Thank you very much.

Scene III: We hop back into Margaritaville, hand the slip to the last officer and ride into the sunset towards Mt. Rainier. We are in the clear.

J: Umm hello? Stealth… When he said you are good to go, we get the f*ck out. You don’t ask questions.

E: Again, that is part of my cover up! When you try to leave as quickly as possible, it makes you look guilty. But I am engaging in a deep conversation with the border officer so it means I have nothing to hide.

J: No one would ever hire you.

E (singing to the “Secret agent man” tune): Secret…Asian man…Secret…Asian man…

After a couple hours drive, we arrived in Bothell where we stayed at the Residence Inn with our friend Allen who flew up from San Francisco on a business trip and dined at Malay Satay with my other friends Sharon and Elaine who just moved to Seattle from SF. We were able to successfully cross the border without incident. No mescaline was smuggled or ingested.

End Scene.

Next stop: Mt. Rainier and Mt. St. Helens. Over and out.