From Willingdon to Wallingford: 434Km for coffee
A while back I found myself in possession of some free time and a desire for coffee. This resulted in a road trip to Seattle.
We piled into the car and told the GPS to go to seattle. It was a bit confused as apparently the directions basically boil down to “Drive South.”
As we crossed the border we noticed that the car does not in fact display miles per hour probably due to the fact that the only backwards assed countries not using the metric system are Burma and Liberia… oh and the US. The result was that speed limits became far more hypothetical than they normally are.
A few coffees were consumed, some wandering around was done, and we decided it was about time for lunch. This was a mistake. Given that the US has a horrifically terrifying record on food safety standards perhaps not an easily justified mistake, but hey shit happens.
This particular lunch was essentially an iceberg of cheese floating in other semi melted and far oilier cheese. Keep in mind that three different dishes were ordered and each one of them was so laden with an over-abundance of cheese that it was nearly inedible. I say cheese because as far as Americans are concerned this substance is cheese. Try to pass it off as cheese anywhere else on earth and it will probably result in a severe beating at best.
I’m not entirely sure what in the hell is wrong with Americas ability to judge the proper amount of cheese but it does explain the obesity a bit. Anyway cheese poisoning was suffered by everyone involved, and when the aforementioned shit does happen it promises to be a somewhat unpleasant reminder of why one should avoid the US entirely.
Having been thouroughly ensickened by the food we made our way northward where we ran into the border folks. Now, I am not sure if its Canadians running the booth in and Americans running the booth headed out or vice versa but wherever the humourless bastard at the border is from should be ashamed of itself. The exchange went as follows…
Border Guy: Purpose of trip?
Border Guy, not looking up from his clipboard: Anything to declare?
Us, holding up bags of coffee: Coffee.
Border guy: Bringing anything back to Canada?
So we crossed an international border with no search attempt of any kind or responses required beyond the word coffee. It really makes one wonder why the hell airport security is so tight. It’s like putting a deadbolt on a screen door… Idiots, also switch to the metric system you bastards, it makes buying gas kinda confusing >.<