Reason #549863 that I live in an Astro:
$1800: What it cost to drive a bus to Alaska 3 years ago with a girlfriend who liked to eat out a lot.
$480: What it just cost me to drive to Alaska in my Astro.
I have discovered the Secret to easy, breezy border crossings. Seriously, this is the first time I’ve ever crossed both borders without being searched.
I’ve always thought the “what do you do for a living” question was key. That’s always the point where they changed their demeanor and started reading from a different list of questions. I’d tried so many answers, too, everything from house cleaner to travel writer. This time I decided to resort to dishonesty and wage slavery, and it paid off big time.
My first border crossing went like this:
Me (handing passport): One dog, one person.
Them: Going home to Alaska?
Me: Yes.
Them: Your dog… a border collie?
Me: Yes.
Them: How old is he.. two, three?
Me: Uh, no. Eleven? Twelve?
Them: How long have you been away from Alaska?
Me: Since January.
Them: What do you do for a living up there?
Me: I work at a summer camp.
Them: Have a nice day.
That was it! No how much money do you have or how long will you be in Canada or step inside and fill out these forms. Wage slavery, it’s magic to the king slaves.
At the Alaska border crossing it was looking bad, for a minute, but once I said I had a job it cleared right up.
I pulled up to the long line of trucks, and was trying to figure out if I was supposed to go through the truck only lane or wander over to the closed car lanes, when I looked up and saw two customs guys looking at me with binoculars. I waved. They kept staring. After a while, they waved me to drive closer, and then to stop about fifty feet from them. Then they spread out, four of them, and kept staring at me with their binoculars. I waved again, and made some goofy faces. Finally they waved me up, but had me stop in front of the booth.
(I know this is a lot of long boring dialogue, but I figure someone who’s planning on going through a border might appreciate it.)
“Turn the vehicle off and take the key out of the ignition.”
“Yes sir.” I figure acting all subservient helps, so I handed him my passport and Bro’s rabies certificate like I was a slave girl handing her master his favorite dildo.
“You still live in Alaska?”
“Yes.”
“Purpose of your trip to Canada?”
“I was on an adventure.” I swear that’s the first time he looked up at me.
“Where was this adventure?”
“It was all over the lower forty eight, but now I want to go home.”
“What do you have in the vehicle?”
“Everything I own.”
He just turned on his heel and walked inside the building. Bro was still sleeping in the passenger seat. I guess he’s used to border crossings by now. I picked up my book, Thought To Exist In The Wild, and started turning pages, looking at animals in cages.
After 22 minutes (I like to keep track of these things) a different man came out. He didn’t have my passport.
“Where did you go in Canada today?”
“I woke up in Whitehorse, and drove here.”
“Are there any drugs in the vehicle?”
“No.”
“Any narcotics?”
“No sir, nothing of the sort.”
“Any firearms?”
“No.”
“What did you do in Canada today?”
“I woke up in Whitehorse and drove here.”
“How long have you been in Canada?”
“Since Monday or Tuesday.”
“What do you have in the vehicle?”
“Everything I own.”
“What’s that in the windows?”
“Reflectix. It’s the best insulation ever.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I work at a summer camp.”
“Do you have a letter from them or any written proof?”
“No.”
“It’s just a verbal thing, then?”
“Yes, I’ve worked there the last three summers.”
He walked away and stood behind the van, staring at the back doors.
“You can open them,” I called back to him, “it’s just bookshelves back there.”
He turned and walked away, but he was back in a minute and handed me my passport. “Have a nice day.”
So. Wage slavery. It’s The Secret.
I worked at a summer camp once.. lots of under the table earnings and verbal contracts. good call.
It felt like stripper summer camp to me last year, and you do camp there, and I consider you my AK counselor.
how strange… 😯
Yep. Anyone who is different (or can think for themselves, which makes them different) is suspect.
“Oh, your a slave to the system like us – then have a nice day!”
You made a good choice. Dealing with Cops or others in the position to “Restrain and Control” is something I avoid as much as possible. If it can’t be avoided, I minimize it any way possible.
You could express it more positively and call it “appeasing the natives” or something like that. Unless you never feel like a misplaced alien;-)
One of your coolest posts to date 🙂
Unbelievable, what lies authorities crave to gobble up and what truths they just can’t handle. I’m a bit sorry that you’ve found the perfect wage slavery lie but I’m very glad about it too. I hope this’ll keep your border crossings worry-free for a long, long time!
love it. hopefully summer camp keeps you having quick crossings for a long while
Isn’t it though ?
My life has no set schedule whatsoever. I rarely NEED to be somewhere ect. and this makes people VERY nervous. So … sometimes I fib a little about what exactly it is that I’m doing in a place and creating a schedule is also key . They seem to relax when I say ” I’m here in town every weekend ” v.s. ” I’m here a couple times a month “.
You might want to elaborate further saying you need to make it back to the camp by Monday or something. You now have a legitimate job and a schedule and they won’t be as nervous !
Awesome! This post definitely will help me. Going into Canada, my car was searched and I was interrogated big time. Wage slave, excellent!
I second Susan on the camp counselor thing! 😆
Yea! for “stripper camp!!”
Do they really think the half assed jedi mind trick of asking you the same question 3 times in a row works? Why does that one always pop up when I’m going to Canada too.
I had the same Candian customs clown ask me how many bags I had when I was taking the redeye into Toronto one time, and everytime I said one. When he went to ask it for the fourth time I held up my middle finger and said “One, just like this one” he wasn’t very happy and I was detained for 5 hours.
Lesson learned, but still worth it. Customs people are dicks.
Eh, it makes sense if you realize that most people are just trying to sleep walk through their day. They don’t want to wake up, open their eyes… they just want to stay nice and in their own heads, doing everything automatically.
Anything that pulls them out of their sleepwalk or makes them have to think is going to cause a lot of stress and problems to them. Just give them the answer they expect and let them keep sleeping.
My life rarely fits comfortably into the little boxes the sleepwalkers enjoy using to keep everything tidy and simple for themselves. I know that my world is a lot different than theirs, so when I’m trespassing on their territory (in the land of paperwork) I try to be considerate of their culture, as much as it can occasionally repulse or disgust me. Likewise, when I take one of the sleepwalkers to my land, I expect them to keep an open mind when they see something that might freak THEM out. 😆
This is how anal fisting and tax returns are the same in my brain.
Crime. That’s all they’re worried about.
You have a job? Great, you have an income. You’re not coming into the country to steal shit.
Think about these guys. They get paid. If they let someone through who commits a crime, then they get in trouble, maybe even fired. So they’re looking at you and going, “Mmm… is this person going to get into the headlines? Am I going to catch hell for letting someone in who then steals/grifts/rapes/murders/whatever some of our citizens?”
If you have a job, you are probably not too much less likely to commit a crime, but at least you don’t have any other choice but to commit one. If you have a job, you have a clear path to regular money, which, to the border guards, equals “not likely to commit a crime”. If you aren’t clear where your next meal is going to come from, they’re worried that you will have to steal it– from them.