Chapter 8 – Trouble at the Border

Chapter 8 – Trouble at the Border

Dave: The three years I spent in Woodstock I compiled hundreds of very fond memories, as you can attest by this book Chris and I are writing. And of all those memories there are a few that I can recall as if they happened yesterday. The following is one of those and has a little to do with our friends south of the border.

Woodstock, New Brunswick is located along the Canada/U.S border in the western part of the province. If you were to take a 20-minute drive a little further west you would reach the small American town, Houlton, Maine. Every once in a while, and if we could find a willing person with a car (usually Lance and his car Gumby) a crew of us would head over the border to get something to eat or do a little cross-border shopping.

Enter April, whom we affectionately nicknamed “Psycho.” (and trust me, if you ever drove with the girl, you would understand. To date she is the only person I know of that has passed an off duty police officer on the shoulder of the road.) April used to be a student at NBCC Woodstock, till a severe bout with a brain stem infection, insifilitis put her in the hospital for six months. She never came back to Woodstock as a student. (Her family is another story all together.)

Once she was cleared to drive again, April would often make the three hour trip from Moncton to Woodstock to see us and we would most always head over to Houlton to play a little mini-golf (There was a great little 18-hole miniature golf course located in the basement of a video store that we stumbled on the previous year) and on the way back would stop at Burger King for some greasy American burgers and then head back through to Woodstock.

On this day we packed myself, my girlfriend at the time Dawn, Dok, Homer and of course Ms. Psycho herself into her golden Chevy Cavalier and headed off to Houlton. There is a tiny history lesson that will probably make the story a little easier to understand. Homer had just recently broken up with his girlfriend whom we called Big-E (Erin was probably 90 pounds soaking wet), and before dating Homer, Big-E dated this guy named Shannon whom Homer didn’t like a whole lot.

Homer: Hey there, This is Homer, I know I have been mentioned a few times in the previous chapters. I figured that since this story would never have happened were it not for me, that it was only appropriate for me to throw in my two cents worth. Because let's face it, if you don't come out of an afternoon of cross-border galavanting with at least one story, WHAT'S THE FREAKIN POINT!

So, as my cohort mentioned, I noticed this guy stopped at the border. I'm not sure if his name was actually Shannon, but sunce his name is neither important, nor worth remembering, he is now, and forever will be, known as Shannon.

It would be safe to say that this guy would never get a Christmas card from me, but, it had nothing to do with him dating Big E. I never liked the guy.

His idea of having fun was to get as drunk as possible and drive "the loop." This was a circuit that literally looped through downtown Woodstock. Locals would spend hours a night driving the loop, and this was called "fun." Hey, it was a small town.

Dave: Usually, we had absolutely no problem getting through the border, we would just explain that we were heading over to play a little mini-golf and wouldn’t be any longer than a couple of hours at the most, and we were waved through. We wouldn’t have the same fate on this day. As we were approaching the booth at the border, Homer happened to spot Shannon just on the other side of the border having his van searched by American authorities. To prove his dislike for the guy, Homer who had called shotgun back in Woodstock, proceeded to give Shannon the D-Generation X crotch chop. (Arms crossed like an X and a chopping motion towards ones groin area) We all found this a bit entertaining, but the problem was Homer was spotted by the border guard, and we were the next vehicle to go through.

Homer: Naturally, I found it hilarious that his vehicle was being searched, so, in my mind, it made perfect sense for me to taunt him about it. This is how my mind works, you see.

Dave: We approached the station and the usual questions were asked, but this time we were actually asked for identification. So the five of us handed our I.D’s to the guard to examine. As he was doing this, small bits of laughter could still be heard coming from the car.

“Please pull ahead and you can obtain your identification inside,” said the surly guard. With a worried look on our faces we all looked at each other wondering what the hell was going on. We immediately began to razz Homer who by this time was feeling like a piece of crap for putting us in this predicament. April pulled ahead parked and as we entered the customs building were met by a few American officials who wouldn’t have looked out of place on any NFL offensive line. What was even scarier about these dudes, they were carrying 9-mm pistols on their sides.

Homer: So there we are in the border station, a little nervous, but still able to see the humor of it all. Unfortunately, as Dave pointed out, the linebackers didn't share our point of view. Damn Yankees!

Dave: Being from Canada, I don't believe our border guards are permitted to holster a weapon, so this was a little out of the ordinary for us.
Being seated and awaiting further instruction, we were still laughing about the entire situation. Cause at the time, it was actually rather humorous.

“I don’t think you guys are in any position to be laughing,” said another guard behind us. "You are being detained for on a very serious matter."

It actually wasn't too long before this incident happened that the whole Beanie Baby craze had hit. You know the little stupid stuffed toys that some people were giving their kidney's away for. People were stopped at the border like normal but if Beanie Babies were found on their person entering the States, they were confiscated. So being in the jubilant mood we were in, that's what we figured we were being detained for. Smuggling Beanie Babies into the U.S. to sell on the black market.

I don’t know what it was about all these American border guards, but none of them had any sense of humor whatsoever. Trying to chat them up a little failed miserably, even our genuine "Canadian" smiles were returned with just a blank stair. One by one, we were led into a small room where we were patted down and asked a series of questions, most of which involved the use of drugs.

While waiting for his turn, Homer decided he was a little hungry so got up and was walking towards the M&M vending machine when Mr. Surly himself yelled out. “SIT DOWN.”
Homer didn’t have a chance to explain himself, “Bu-Bu but I was just getting som…”

“I said sit down!” the guard boomed. Bad knees and all, it didn’t take Homer too long to get back to his seat. April wasn’t even allowed to use the bathroom for god sakes. We knew it was something serious by that time. But we still kept a pretty light attitude about the whole ordeal. After all, it isn't everyday a couple of good friends get to share a moment like this.

Homer: I happened to be the first one of our band of outlaws to be taken into the room by Mr. Linebacker, and of course I am fearing the worst. I figured there would be a search involved, I was just a little concerened what kind of a search it would be.

Immediatley, the movie Beavis and Butthead do America came to mind, with the body cavity search, and this guy had pretty big hands!

So he gets me into this room, and does the whole "if your hands ever come off this wall, you and will no longer be friends,' bit. I, of course immediately thought "I never really considered us friends in the fiirst place," luckily, common sense over-powered my natural smart ass tendancies and I kept the comment to myself.

So the first thing Linebacker guy says is for me to empty my pockets. So, since he was big man with one gun and I was little man with no gun, I emptied my pockets of change.

He noticed that one of the coins was a toonie, and proceeded to ask me if it was one of those new two dollar coins. I'm thinking these have been in circulation for more than two years, but since he is big man with a gun and I am little man with no gun, it is new.

At this point, I realise that he is just a dumbass American and I am a smartass Canadian, (did ya catch the little play on words there) so I decide to have a little fun. I figured that since there were no signs of latex gloves, my sphincter is probably safe.

As Dave mentioned, we were all known as being smartasses, but, without blowing my own horn too much, I think I was probably the king of smartasses. I am sure Dave would atest to this, having been the victim of many well-timed zingers (remember the Irving comment?)

I proceeded to tell him that we were coming out with a five dollar coin next. It was going to be the size of a hockey puck and contain five different metals including poutin. He actually bought it, which sent my inside voice into hysterics.

So after all the formalities are taken care of, he proceeds with the patdown. Let me tell you how releaved I was about the fact that it stopped at that!

It has always been my philosiphy that the best laugh you ever have is at someone else's expense. So, I was actually thinking about coming out of the room walking a little bowlegged, but I figured we were in enough trouble.

He then asks me when the last time was I had taken drugs. I again saw the opportunity to have a little fun with my new-found "friend". I proceeded to tell him that I have never taken them (at the time, that was true). Naturally, due to our afore mentioned behaviour, he found this a little hard to believe.

This was where the fun began. I proceeded to spin this elaborate tale about drugs interfering with my football career in high school. This peaked his interest, and we started chatting about it.

I had him convinced that I was a starting middle linebacker in high school, with a full scholarship to play at McGill University until I blew my knee out my senior year. The story was made more believable because I was actually limping a little bit that day.

The funniest thing is, thanks to the two bad knees that Dave mentioned, as well as having only one eye that works, I was never able to play high school football!

This really lightened the mood and the rest of the time spent in the little room was not all that unpleasant.

Dave: My turn came around, and was led into the room by one of the linebackers. I was told to empty out my pockets and place the contents on the table in front of me. I was then instructed to take my position on the wall with my arms and legs spread so he could pat me down.

”Please spread your arms and legs on the wall and if you feel it necessary for your hands to come off the wall, we will fail to remain friends.” Now usually I would find a remark like that quite funny, and the little person inside my head was laughing like a little schoolgirl, but I remembered that the guy was carrying a very powerful handgun, and even the smallest outburst would probably mean a big ouch for me. So I maintained my composure and followed the very nice man’s instructions.

"When was the last time you used drugs," Mr. Linebacker asked me. Now, again we were all known for being huge smartasses while in the college atmosphere. And if it weren't for the gun it would have been open season and a perfect opportunity for a sarcastic outburst. Being that Houlton time was an hour behind Woodstock time, it was quite tempting to ask him which time zone he was refering to. If I had smoked a joint at 2 o'clock Woodstock time, I wouldn't had smoked it yet according to American time. But alas the saner part of my brain thought it best just to sit there and shut up.

Dok was next. Now one thing you have to remember here is that when we were asked to take everything off our person while in the detention room, they meant everything.He emptied his pockets on the table, but had forgotten about his sunglasses that were hanging from the chain around his neck. The guard proceeded with his pat down, and once he reached around to Chris' chest area, he found the glasses.

Dok: "As soon as he touched them was when I realized that I had forgotten them." "I felt him reach for his gun and was thinking to myself, oh man, I am a gonner. I think this is where the friendship ends."

Dave: After we all had our turn, we all sat back down by the happiest guard in the world and awaited our fate. Electric chair was swimming through my brain, and I think Dok was picturing us before a firing squad. But finally the time had come to bid our friends a found adeiu. THREE HOURS LATER!. As we continued into Houlton the conversation centered on our recent experience. Since we were basically sworn to silence while in the customs building, we couldn't converse much.

“Holy Shit, they thought we were stoned,” I blurted out.

We had all the tell tale signs; We were giggling when we got to the border, and continued to giggle and act up inside -- Homer was hungry for M&M’s which could have easily been misconstrued as having the munchies. -- and April needed to go to the washroom, which they probably viewed as a great chance to dump the evidence before she could be searched. The laughter erupted again, and we all took turns harassing Homer for putting us in that predicament in the first place.

“Next time we come over to Houlton, we are taping your hands behind your back,” April said to Homer. But not even a three-hour detention could have stopped us from our final goal, and that was mini golf. I can’t really remember who won, or even if we kept score that day. The only thing that any one remembered was our encounter with our ‘brothers’ to the south.

Homer: I would like to think that if nothing else, we did our little part to improve Canadian-American border relations. Although, in reality, we probably set things back a few decades.

Oh well, at least we achieved our goal of never going on an adventure without having a story to tell.