Just Say No
Written by Hank Stram
A teacher in middle school taught us that when you travel to Canada remember that “Canadians are dumb, Americans are smart.” You will always be able to outwit them by answering “no” to crucile questions.
Cecil Brown, Isiah Turducken and I were on our way to Vancouver BC when I realized In my backpack pocket were 3 half smoked joints. Good news to us considering we only had 8 joints between the three of us for 420 weekend in Vancouver. So we did what we did last time, put them in a bag in a coffee cup in a trash bag. Easy.
The line at the border was pretty short. As we waited about 4 cars back a Canadian Border Agent strolls down between the lines and he and I make eye contact. We had our game faces on and were in character so I didn’t notice the significance.
We drive up to the window, give our paper work, answer the questions about jobs and what we do, where we’re going, blah blah blah. Well she gives us our paper work back and a white sheet, “Please pull forward and park to the left”. (Fuck!)
We pull up to this little area with a metal table next to it. Two Border Agents are waiting for us in combat fatigues. All three of us secretly are freaking out. Game faces on while they ask for our bags and to go inside. Inside at Immigration they ask for birth certificates. Cecil and Isiah start pulling theirs out, mine is in my bag. I go outside and cross the parking area and I’m watching one of them going through my bag. Then he yells to other one, “Oh yeah, we got it! Residue”. I walk right up to one, who not coincidentally was the same border agent who I made eye contact with about 15 minutes earlier and now walking directly up to him and say “I need to get out my birth certificate. Out of that bag.” (Fuck!)
“This is your bag?”
“Yeah”
“When I asked if you had any residue why did you say no?”
“Well I didn’t really consider that residue.”
“Look at this, flakes. This is an arrestable amount.”
“Well, if I thought that it was big deal I would of cleaned it out.”
At this point the Immigration guy from inside walks up and asks me “Have you ever been convicted of a felony anywhere, ever in the world?”
“Yeah” (Fuck! I would of said no but I knew things would be more closely examined because of the “residue”)
“Why when I asked you that why did you say no?”
“Well in the U.S. after 10 years you don’t really have to report it and I don’t think you said ‘ever’ ”
“I did say ‘Ever’ and this whole situation is a lot more serious. First your car reaks and second I could smell it on your friends breathe (probably a fucking lie since we hadn’t smoked for like 7 hours.).”
So Inside we’re waiting and stressing. After 30 minutes one of them comes in.
“Okay, we know there’s more somewhere in the car. You can tell us now or we can go get the dog. It’s up to you. Is there anything else in the car?”
Cecil “Yeah, I’ve got a little in my bag, I’ll show you.”
Outside Cecil goes to his bag and gets an Airborne container and gives it to them.
“These are fatties. This isn’t a little bit.
Okay, so is there anything else in car?”
Cecil “As far as I know, no.”
At this point one of them pulls up his hand and dropping and unravels a baggie with mushrooms in it. (Oh Fuck!)
It came out of Isiah’s bag so it was in his possession.
After 3 hours it was explained by immigration that I wasn’t allowed into Canada because of a felony when I was 22. And I would have to prove to a Canadian consulate that I was “Criminally Rehabilitated”. Which means court documents and all that bullshit. It was looking like Isiah and Cecil were going to be detained and I was going to be sent, walking, back to the U.S.
Now the Border Agents come marching in walk up to us (by the way we all looked scared as shit).
“Okay. We just found a bunch more roaches. Like 3 grams worth. Who’s is it?”
Meekly I say “It’s probably mine.”
“Is it? Or isn’t it?”
“Yeah, It’s mine.”
Now these Border Agents were really irritated.
“Okay, this is the last time I’m going to ask this, is there anything else? You guys talk to each other get your story straight and I’ll be back. At this point your friend is losing his car and we’re going to tear it apart. So talk to each other.”
We have nothing else that we know of.
The dog comes out and they rip out the hatch back floor and dog cage. We then pay $440 are led around the “rejection road” met on the other side and given our paper work. Whew.
Now we get to drive the 100 yards to the U.S. and explain our short trip to Canada.
At the booth the Border Patrol ask what we did?
“Not much”
How long where you there?
“Oh, not very long”
Why?
I chime in quickly, “Because I had a felony”
Nothing current?
“No”
