photo by Sheri Dixon

Saturday, October 8, 2016

"Border"line Insanity

So my friend Carla and I drove from Austin to San Diego (actually Del Mar) yesterday and today. From Austin it's a route that skirts along the wee north side of our border with our neighbors to the South---the dreaded Mexican border.

We saw no teeming masses of rapists and murderers swarming across it.

There was no impenetrable wall.

It's a horrible, endless, festering and depressing starkly beautiful yet lonesome area of deserts and mountains.

There were, however, checkpoints.

Three of them, to be exact.

When we approached the first one, my mind raced at all the things we could be questioned for, and I ticked off every one in my head.

-There were 18 guinea pigs in the car- guinea pigs don't get rabies so don't need health certificates to travel across state lines

-There was a baggie of cut up carrots and 6 apples in the car, so if they asked about fresh fruit and veggies we could just hand those over

-There may have been a partially consumed bottle of Rumchata in the back seat...

The entire car is filled with our luggage, the guinea pigs' supplies including several 40 pound bags of bedding, and 8 or 9 carriers---some with pigs and some without...yet.

So we steeled ourselves for the obviously inevitable search of our vehicle.

We approached the checkpoint, noting the nine armed agents and the super-enthusiastic German Shepherd. There was a dog who looked at every working day as THE BEST DAY EVER. Carla said, "He's going to eat the pigs."

Finally at the front of the line, we rolled down the window as the agent peered into the car. "Are you American citizens?" he asked. "Ummm...yes. Yes, we are."

"OK- you ladies have a great day."

...and we proceeded on our way, noting the vehicles that had been pulled over for further searching- every one with a driver who was...browner than we are.

I should have been relieved that we didn't have to unpack and repack all our shit or set our pigs out in the sun or open our suitcases to reveal our middle-aged chick clothes and daily supplies.

But I was unaccountably pissed off. Really, really pissed off.

"What the hell??? How did he know we're not running drugs???" I fumed.

"What kind of moron would say, "No- I'm NOT a citizen?" Carla added.

"Seriously- we could have had drugs in the suitcases, drugs under the pigs in their trays, drugs tucked into the middle of the bags of pine shavings to mask the smell!!! WE COULD BE DANGEROUS, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" <<< Me- but you already knew that.

Just then Ward called. "Hey, Caramia! Where are you?" And he got the recap of what you just read.

At the end of it, I added, "That was bullshit! Just because we're two middle-aged chicks we get a pass? If I were running drugs, I'D SEND THEM WITH ME BECAUSE I DON'T LOOK DANGEROUS. Maybe I'll start running drugs..."

"Ummm...I'd rather you didn't" Ward said in his calm and rational way.

He really is the only thing that keeps the world safe from me.

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