If I were a border control officer…

During my recent Pacific Northwest vacation, one of the best parts was being able to visit Canada. But what comes with Canada, of course, is the sometimes long process of border control.

After more than half an hour (or maybe it was longer, I fell asleep in the car) of waiting through the lanes that looked like a tollway, we finally reached the border control booth. The border control officer asked what we were doing in Canada (touring), what we had bought there (less than $30 worth of souvenirs), and what else we were bringing back with us (moose ticks, maple leaves, and a new species of Canadian bed bugs).

When he asked if we had purchased fruits or vegetables while in Canada, my friend at the wheel said that we did have fruit with us (it was the fruit that we had taken with us from Seattle to have a healthy snack in the car, even though we clearly preferred the chocolates). The officer said he would need to inspect our trunk.

In our trunk, he found a cooler of bananas (I know, I know, you’re not supposed to put bananas in the cooler), apples, and oranges. He took out about a dozen oranges and said that the United States has a law that once citrus food has left the country, it is not allowed back. He would have to confiscate them.

What I think is that he was just hungry, and he and his fellow border control officers are now having a delicious and nutritious snack of our illegal munchies.

I see where he comes from, though. You have to sit in a box all day hearing people tell you about all the fun, touristy things they’re doing on either size of the border, and you probably barely have any time to even take a bathroom break. I’d get hungry too.

If I were the border control officer…

“I’m sorry, sir. The United States has a law prohibiting chocolate with hazelnuts after it’s been out of the country. I’m going to have to take that from you.”

“I apologize, ma’am, but because of America’s conflict between Chicago-style pizza and New York-style pizza, the Canadian government chooses to remain neutral in this argument, meaning I must take your pizza. Smells good, though!”

“Oh, you bought new red high heel shoes while in Vancouver? What size — U.S. 8? Oh really? Um, yeah, the United States doesn’t allow size 8 shoes into this country…sorry about that…”

“Wow, you’re reading the second book of the Hunger Games trilogy! Do you like it? I haven’t read it yet. In fact, our country has actually banned the second book due to its controversial nature, so I’ll just need you to hand that over. You don’t happen to also have the third book on you, do you?”


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