So anyway, I set off from Seattle, driving the company truck filled with parts. I was going to import the vehicle into Canada. I had no idea what the process was. I had not idea what I was doing. In fact, I thought for sure I was going to get arrested so I secreted a paperclip into my hair, not because I thought I could use it to get the cuffs undone, but simply because I think that is what you do when you are about to get arrested.
I made it to the border in record time. The record wasn't a speed record, it was actually more of an amazement, but I couldn't say that in the last sentence, it doesn't make any sense.
So there I was...
It was ugly.
I won't bore you with the details but after several hours, a customs broker, several calls to the home office, and a large payment in small bills dropped behind the third bush on the right side of the building, I was permitted to enter Canada.
The welcome was actually sort of nice. I crossed the border to fanfare (in my head) and was immediately flagged down, pulled from the truck and forcefully kissed full on the mouth by the sweet smelling, flaxen haired border patrol.
Too bad it was a dude...