Wednesday, April 2, 2008

In Canada

Took the Amtrak from NYC straight after rocking at Sway.  
In comparison to Greyhound - or even planes - u can't front on the train.  
Modestly priced ($61).  Lots of room for my long legs.  Not crowded w/ people all up in your grill.  The only downside is the length of time (12hrs); but sleep, pirated movies, and a bar/food train-car pretty much makes it a comfortable journey; that, and the oh-so-not-Miami scenery:

So, we left around 8am, and after 3 hours of watching over our gear as Huggs passed out face down (*imagine the photo I forgot to take here) in the middle of Penn Station, I fell asleep on the train till about 5pm.

As we approached the US/Canadian border, all of the stories Huggs has told me about dj's getting caught trying to sneak across the border w/o work visas flashed on repeat in my head. Sure enough, T-minus 5 minutes til the border, Huggs casually walks to my seat and quietly asks: 

"So, what are you doing in Canada?  Wedding?  Funeral?  What?"

In retrospect, I probably picked the worst of those options as a cover-story; but congratulations go out to Jake Jefferson, you're getting married this Saturday in Montreal!  

James Bond I am not.

Anyways, after the border guards did a 2-minute interview asking totally pertinent questions that I mumbled and stumbled my way through, ("Why did you buy your train ticket so last minute if you knew about the wedding?  Why don't you have a return ticket?  Did you not bring any gifts for the bride/groom?), they kept my passport and went on to interview others.  

After the border guard had moved a distance down the aisle, Huggs whispers: 

"Did they keep your passport?"
"Hmmm . . . ", he responds, with one of those 'That's not a good look' faces.

Luckily for me, there were 4 other passengers on the train with worse border-crossing techniques than I.  

Mariah Carey look-a-like w/ out-of-this-world fake padded butt.
"Where are you going in Canada?"
"To see a guy I met on the Internet," she responds as she continues to chew on her bagel.
"What are you doing?!  Please stop eating.  Now, where does this guy live?" 
"I don't know, he said he lives 7 blocks away from the train station," she again replies mid-chew in a disdainful voice.
"Ok.  You need to put down your food now, grab your bags, and come with us."

Dude w/ a knife.
I didn't really catch this whole interaction -- I was pretty focused on preparing for my next interrogation which was sure to happen.  But at some point he starts yelling about how the border guards were embarassing him and that: "Canada fucking sucks, France too!"
They start a search of his bag, and pull out a knife . . . 
That was all she wrote for that guy.

3 & 4.  Didn't see them, but Huggs made sure to make a point of telling me as I was trying to memorize solid replies for my wedding cover-story.  

To shorten this up, I get my passport back w/ no further questions.  4 other suckers got kicked off the train.  Played the Peer Pressure party last night w/ Sixtoo, and now I'm in a web cafe in Montreal~!

 Apparently it's 'sweatshirt' weather for Canadians, but i'm pulling the 5-layer look.

Madonna - Borderline (320kbps)

1 comment:

luis said...