Interrogation

I was picked up by Bonny this afternoon and we left La Conner and headed for Canada.

This meant that I would once again have to explain myself to border patrol. I thought the Canadians would accept me and my ways more naturally than the guys in Denver (because of the whole commonwealth/sense of humour connection). Wrong. In short: I left the place ashamed to be alive.

A big, scary, bald guy took me into a room and this is a genuine transcript of some our conversation:

BP: 'What'dya do for a living in England?'
ME: 'I've just left my job, I don't currently have one'
BP: '...Why not?'
ME: '...Wanted to move onto different things...'
BP: 'How are you paying for your stay in Canada?'
ME: '...uh...I have money that I saved...'
BP: 'What'ya gonna do for money when you go back home?'
ME: '...Um...I'll be alright. I have plans to continue studying in September...'
BP: 'How are you gonna pay for that?'

No word of a lie. And more and more and more questions of the sort. I half expected him to continue thus:

BP: 'What colour underpants do you usually wear?'
ME: '....Ummm....grey, mostly. Orange if I'm feeling naughty'
BP: 'Have you ever left sprinklets on the toilet seat without wiping them off?'
ME: '...Haven't we all?'
BP: '...Have you ever put your hands down your pants, scratched your balls and then high-fived a friend without washing them first?'
ME: 'Guilty'
BP: 'Ever known forbidden love?'
ME: 'His name was Trevor...'

But I got through, arrived at my sister and brother-in-law's a few hours ago, and spent the evening having fun with them and my two nieces, Phoebe and Gracie. UBERLY cute.