Lately American Katy of Experienced Bad Mom and I have been collaborating on some very important blog posts bent on improving American/Canadian relations (by asking outrageous questions of each other). I suspect the time is ripe to share a Just TypiKel story that could NEVER fly post 9/11.
But first a bit of background. I often call myself a quirk magnet. Quirky things happen to me that don’t necessarily happen to others. Like that time I blithely damaged the valve stem of my car tire (by simply adding air via a gas station hose) and merrily drove another 15 minutes …
Get the picture? Excellent.
I Once Crossed The Border Illegally
One unusually quiet November day at the charter bus company where I ran the Seniors Tours program (long before marriage and kids) I was asked to drive across the border into Washington to help retrieve a bus. Sounds simple, no? I thought so. However, Dennis my assigned companion (a professional bus driver) quickly enlightened me.
“We’re recovering it because the lessee hasn’t paid the rental fees for months. It’s languishing at the end of a long road, deep in some woods. Things could get dicey.”
Dicey?
The trip down across the border was uneventful and we sailed through US Customs. The latter 45 minutes of our three-hour journey were rather novel. The road, of a poorly serviced nature with potholes aplenty, was growing steadily more narrow and desolate by the second. It culminated in a dead-end and our bus.
Quite the vision, the vehicle’s outside was absolutely filthy. The inside? Absolutely spooky. Completely gutted, there one remarkable addition. The most god awful filthy red shag carpet was laid out from stem to stern. Our luxury coach had evolved into a brothel on wheels.
Our welcoming committee, a shifty eyed, bare-chested, greasy haired fellow swiftly deduced his earning days were over.
“I ain’t payin’ for no seats. Still got ’em. They be underneath in the luggage bay.”
How enterprising. Thankfully seat inspection fell under the auspices of my colleague.
With the 49 seats accounted for we were free to leave. Clutching the steering wheel of the car I pulled in behind the bus as it bounced out of the wilderness. Crisis averted.
Or so I thought.
Two hours later mere minutes from the official truck crossing into Canada Dennis pulled over and waved me aboard.
“I’ll take the lead and explain to Canada Customs why I’m navigating this babe of a bordello. You just smile and sail behind. Are you hungry? Have some oranges. They might keep me awhile.”
I was starving having not eaten since breakfast. It was past sunset now and getting close to 6:00 PM. Clutching three oranges I returned to the car. We eased back onto the highway and threaded our way to the border.
As I was unfamiliar with the truck crossing (my usual choice was the automobile friendly Peace Arch border) I deferred to my coworker’s advice. Things were rolling along smoothly until he pulled up beside an official looking building leaving no room behind for me.
Having decided the best course of action would be to pull ahead of him and park, I opted for a another lane as his was too narrow. The most dreadful cacophonous howl rent the air and my eyes were assaulted by the brightest of lights.
The huge sign to my immediate right was unexpected.
WELCOME TO BRITISH COLUMBIA!
I was back in BC? But how? I’d spoken to no one.
Holy mother of God. I’d driven over the border. Illegally. I gingerly glanced back. With the sirens still hollering and the lights still throbbing, all was abject pandemonium. Four uniformed US Customs officers of varying degrees of physical fitness were thundering towards me. Guns drawn. Dennis was in hysterics hunched over the steering wheel, pounding it with delight.
Sweet Jesus. I wrenched the car around and slowly wheeled back into the States. The highly overwrought officers swarmed the vehicle. With a pair pounding on my driver’s side window with their guns, I opted for the more agreeable passenger one and feverishly lowered it.
Frenzied queries spewed forth. “What the hell are you doing?” “Get out of the car immediately” “Lower your window this instant!” “Hands in the air!” I finally found my voice.
“I’m with him.” My shaking fingers pointed to the finally recovered and now wildly nodding Dennis.
Miraculously there was an immediate defusal as the penny dropped. Three of the gents peeled off to interrogate my colleague and the remainder turned a relieved eye to me.
“So you’re with brothel guy?”
“I am. He drove this car down. I’m simply bringing it back. I’ve never been through the truck crossing before.”
“That’s a given. Christ.”
“I do apologize for going through illegally. Would you care for an orange?”
The silence was palpable.
“Ma’am? Just. Go. Home. Go!”
I obeyed. No passport request, no interrogation, nothing. I shudder to think what would happen today.
This post was inspired by the Finish The Sentence Friday prompt of “This one time …”As always, our host is Kristi . Today’s guest host is Jennifer.
Enough about me and that time I once crossed the border illegally. I’m curious about you. Have you ever inadvertently broken the law? Care to spill the beans? Come on. I won’t tell, promise. If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
51 Responses
You have such great adventures! Well not so great at the time you are living them, but really funny afterwards.
SO true Sharon. In the last couple of years I just say to myself as yet another quirky Just TypiKel is unfolding “Here we go again.”
Oh, Kelly. This is truly one of those situations that could only happen to you. How could it have been so easy to drive across? Shouldn’t there have been a gate or something? I LOVE that you offered the customs agents an orange! Always polite, even when people are waving guns at you. 🙂
It’s crazy Donna – I don’t know how it was so easy. I remember being completely shocked. There wasn’t the narrow single file thing happening that happens now. I somehow crossed over to that incoming lane and there was no traffic there so I kept going. Years later I passed through again (legally this time) and things are much more official now. There’s the proper booth and gate system. Also ran into Dennis years later in the grocery store and he sang out “Hi Wrong Way!” My kids were with me and he delighted in relaying the story to them.
You make my life seem SO boring!
I get the quirkiness gene from my Mom I think Kathy. Things like this continue to happen to her too.
Bwa ha ha! Kelly the Canadian Repo Woman and Border Crasher! If you are ever in the market for a new domain, you might consider that. It’s catchy. AND TRUE!
Yup, shuddering about what would happen nowadays. With both the bus brothel AND the border crossing.
Thank you. Could not for the life of me remember the term border crasher. I might go in later and change the title of this piece.
Oh Kelly! I do so love to read your tales of “a life quirkily lived”. So you and Dennis played the part of Repo Man – across the border. What could possible go wrong?!?! If anyone was going to find out the answer to that question it would be you, my friend!
Too true Mo. Life is never dull around here.
You had me at red shag carpet, stem to stern!! Well played, dear Kelly, well played.
Aw – thank you. I’d have photographic proof if it happened today. What cell phone?
Oh, my goodness! I can just imagine what those guards thought when you crossed the border, but I bet they REALLY didn’t like it when you turned around and crossed back over!
What a wonderful story. Thanks for the laugh!
You’re more than welcome. Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment. The guards really were fit to be tied and the two by my window were so angry when I rolled down the passenger window.
LOL you really do have the very bestest stories of hilarity and mayhem! Love it! And it was a brothel? Ewwww. Thanks for linking up with FTSF Kelly!
Yep – a brothel. Always wondered how disappointed the clientele were when they next pulled up for a quickie only to find it gone. Not the time of cell phones or emails so it must have been an interesting situation trying to spread the word.
Oh my goodness, that was so hilarious. I needed a good Friday the 13 th laugh, and that was just the ticket ! You never fail to amaze me with your adventures, and delightful way of telling them !
My pleasure Jane. It is fun reliving them I must say. Ran into Dennis years later with M and H and they HAD to find out why he greeted me with a jumbo hug and a “Hi Wrong Way!”
Oh Kelly, brava another typikel adventure!! You had me glued to my seat!! You are so very right about this being so very different now at our borders. I think I can here the snap of that glove just prior to a very personal interrogation. Thank you or a much needed laugh today!!
Grinning here over the concept of the snap of that glove. No. More appropriate to say Cringing Here. Yuck. That would have not been fun. Don’t think the offer of an orange would cut it today …
I have been waiting to read this since ? 79? hahahah, so so brilliant, Kelly, descriptive par excellance.
Nonie.. resonating your reality dear girl
Hahahaha! Yes Nonie! You can attest to it being true! Man alive. I think it was probably around ’79. Ran in to Dennis years later in Safeway with my two in tow and he gave me a big hug and a huge “Hi Wrong Way!” I reminded him of the time I sat in his kid’s carseat …
Ok Kelly I got nothing to compare this to! What a fantastic story. Thank you for sharing it!
Oh I bet you can come up with a gem or two Nicki…
Oh, that is fabulous! Seriously. Really you can’t make up stuff this good – has to be true! I do love that you offered them an orange. Seems appropriate after the guns-drawn car swarming.
Sadly it is true! Got the bus driver and a whack of other drivers and employees out there somewhere to back me up. Dennis couldn’t keep it quiet and for quite a long time everyone was calling me “Wrong Way.” The story spread around the office like wild fire.
“That’s a given. Christ.”
HA! Ya Think? I love it.
What’s life without adventure?
I agree Mardra. What’s life without adventure. It would be a tad dull, no?
Oh, Kelly. You crack me up. The only thing I’ve inadvertently done illegally was forget to pay for something at Target. I got to my car, and there is was, sitting in the bottom of my cart. I don’t even remember what it was, but I needed it, so I kept it.
Ohhhhhh I love that you kept it Dana. That was also a very innocent illegal move. Life is not often dull for you either I suspect.
I don’t remember hering about this before, Kel, but can quite understand it happening to you. You are quite right when you say it wouldn’t be that easy today!! The only illegal thing I remember about you is when you rushed through the large restaurant in Thailand with me following bent over in dreadful pain way back – and I glimpsed you wildly waiving a huge ladle which you had snatched from a very bewildered and yelling waitress and milk flying wildly about over the nearby customers. You knew I needed milk to stop the pain. How much did that episode cost us, cleaning bills, etc.? Bless you. You are quite the best person to travel with. Mom.
I must right about that episode too Mom. But will save it for the book! I tell everyone that I get this quirkiness from you. Long may your quirky adventures continue.
What a fun experience!! I’m sure at the time it wasn’t quite so fun but it makes a pretty great story now. I’m still looking forward to the entire book:)
Thanks for the vote of confidence Kim. I really mean it.
Oh this is hilarious – border crashing brothel bus babe! You do lead an exciting life Kelly!
I once was briefly detained by your lovely border crossing agents. One weekend I went with a couple of other high school friends to a Detroit meditation center. We blithely decided to cross over into Windsor for an afternoon visit, and in a-not-very-smart-decision moment, I left my purse in the hotel room in Detroit, and just slipped a few bucks in my jeans. Whatever was I thinking?! We had no problem crossing over, but when it came time to come back I had no identification with me. Uh-oh. I think looking scared and pathetic, along with their own reluctance to hang on to a clearly idiotic teenager is what saved me.
Wow – this is classic. Thank you so much for sharing. I can totally understand how it happened and am delighted that you were accepted back into your country. Bet your heart was thumping as the car approached the booth though!
“Care for any orange”
Lol
This was one line I had never heard of, kelly 😉
Glad you made it back home with no interrogation!
I am still absolutely shocked that I was able to do so, Ruchira. The guy was really adamant that I leave right that minute. I remember his stiff arm pointing out the way.
Awesome! Rules to Live By, by Kelly:
When inadvertently crossing a border behind a red-carpeted Shag Bus, be sure to bring oranges instead of a passport.
W00t!
Anna – you crack me up. Grinning hugely. Can you feel the heat from my smile?
Oh, how I love your tales. When does the book come out??
Now that is a story! That brothel! Impressive work by the shirtless fella.
Hahahaha! So very true Sarah. It was impressive if not a tad creepy. I can’t help but wonder whether he managed to acquire another bus or if he had to pursue other options. And if he had partners. And how he got his clients as it was pre online days. Hmmm… the questions really are endless …
My goodness Kelly, at one point in the story I had to have asked, “No way, am I being punked?” What a ride! So they didn’t even confiscate your oranges? Yep these days you don’t want to be on the wrong side of the law or borders.
I still cannot believe it myself Kenya. Thankfully I’ve reconnected online with a fellow coworker who now lives in Australia. She remembers Dennis spreading the story all over the office. And those oranges? I know – so bizarre. I think they just wanted me gone. Too much excitement for one night maybe.
I read this less than 24 hours after my parents took me across the border to meet up with my sister… and my father was worried because he had prescription medications in the car. He definitely needs to read this! I had a delightful lunch at the White Spot restaurant while in Canada! 🙂
Aw Susan your comment made me grin. Glad your dad and his prescription meds got across in one piece. I am delighted that you were able to sample the wonder that is White Spot too.
LOL! I’ve never driven across any border and I don’t know what it’d be like today. My heart would have been racing in those few moments after crossing, but now you have a great story to tell!
Oh April it was and is quite the adventure. Even though I am 100% honest I feel like a criminal each time I cross. Must be lingering trauma over that border crashing of oh so long ago.
Wow, guns drawn?! I think I would have freaked out. And the bus as a brothel? Hilarious. Great adventure Kelly.
Yes, truly guns drawn. It all happened so fast and I was completely gobsmacked. Think that’s why I was simply annoyed at the chaps who were banging on my window just inches from my face. Had I done it on purpose I’d be more inclined to freak out I think. And that brothel? I know! Hard to believe all around but there are witnesses who live today who still call me “Wrong Way” whenever I run into them. Thanks for your comments Lisa. Off to read about your “Gorgeous Mess!”