I went out to watch a basketball game at a local sports bar with three friends a couple of years ago and things went so awry that I had to write about it. I came across that piece today and thought to post it on the web to the whole world.
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OK folks, there is a lot misinformation about what happened on Friday night and I just wanted to give a detailed account of the truth and clear our good names. Also since our names are now in the National Security Agency and the Department of Homeland Security databases, I’ll have to use factitious names or just initials to protect the innocent.
Friday
8:00 pm: the Pistons game: drinking beer, eating nachos, smoking cigars. Didn’t pay much attention to the game but I think the Pistons won by a land slide. Not.
8:15: A.M. suggests going to Windsor to enjoy the various cultures and be exposed to a foreign culture with a strange language. All agree.
8:50: The border guard sends us inside saying “You can come to Canada and do whatever you want, fish, hunt, gamble, but you might not be able to get back in U.S., eh”. Inside the nice lady guard says “there’s no guarantee they’ll let ye back in you know, you got no passports, and these days it’s all aboot passports, eh.”
P.B. “I have been to Canada lots ‘a times and have never been hassled. This is an outrage”
Guard “Sir you can enter Canada, but there is a chance you’ll have to call home and have somebody bring you a passport when you try to get back in!”
P.B. “This is crazy! I am never coming back here again! Canada sucks, no wonder it’s a dictatorship.”
A.M. “Let’s just go back. Can we go back?”
Guard: “Sure. Let me just fill ooout this form, you sign it and back ye go.”
The guard walks us back to our car. Before getting into the car J.P. smirks “Good thing they didn’t search the car.” The guards standing outside look at each other suspiciously. J.P. jokes “Just kidding man…”
Guards “You don’t joke here at the border sir. Please step aside we have to search the car.”
After a thorough search, J.P smirks, “Good thing they didn’t do a body search.”
Five minutes later: Body search inside. Fortunately the Canadian border guards are attractive women as opposed to their overweight-tooth-missing-middle-aged American counterparts.
B.B. “Hey, I know my rights. I am an American, What about cavity search, I demand it!”
P.B. “Damn Canadians! In America they use the good K.Y, Jelly! This is an outrage!”
J.P. “Hey, those are the spare keys to the Focus. I was looking for them.”
B.B. “I usually keep the weapons of mass destruction in my shorts, be sure to do a thorough search!”
Guards: “where were you born sir?”
A.M. “On the border of Iran and Iraq to Palestinian parents. Undergrad in Afghanistan and graduate studies in Sudan.”
Guards “Please come with us for special processing sir.”
J.P. “Those are mighty big guns for these little guards.”
P.B. “You know, if you grease those guns they won’t rust. You gotta use the special PT57 grease; they have ‘em at NAPA. I had a cousin with a 9 mm who…”
10 minutes later
P.B. “Then again the FP45 is less viscous…you can use it on the carburetors too…”
20 minutes later
P.B. “Never use cotton for greasing though; it clogs up the chambers…”
The guards have put their gun barrels in their own mouths and are preparing to pull the triggers. One of them points her gun at us and says “if you don’t leave now we are going to go Abu Ghareib on your ass!”
Five minutes later: In the car back in the U.S.
P.B. “Those damn Canadians, this sucks.”
A.M. “Damn, that special processing!!”
J.P. “Hey good thing they didn’t search my shoes, har…”
B.B. (smoking a cigarette) “Hey, that Abu Ghereib thing sounded like fun, let’s go back!”
P.B. “This is something I’ll never forget, I am never going back.
A.M. “I think we should invade them preemptively.”
J.P. “ No oil though.”
B.B. “But they got that sand oil thing.”
P.B. “But that’s no good for the engine.”
A.M. “Might be good for the hybrid electric engines though.”
J.P. “No the energy content is too low. The conversion is the issue.”
A twenty minute discussion on hybrid-electric vehicle technology ensues.
P.B. “Hey look at that 67 Chevy el Kahuna, 650 cubic foot engine triple over head cam…all POWER”
J.P. “No that’s 625 cubic. The paint job sucks though”
B.B. “I had one of those.”
A 15 minute discussion on the el Kahuna’s internal combustion engine ensues.
Greek Town Casino, ATM machine trip number 3:
P.B. “This is exactly why I wanted to go to Windsor. I hear they have nickel poker tables. Let’s go to white castle!”
A.M. “No man, my luck is turning around.”
30 minutes later: some Greek restaurant in Greektown
April to P.B. (on the phone: “Where are you? I thought you where dead in a ditch”
10 minutes later
Nancy to A.M. “Where the hell are you it’s 4:30!!! $$%# whatever …”
5 minutes later
Jenny to B.B. “$%#^$#” clank.
5 minutes later
Everybody to J.P. “ha ha look whose wife hasn’t called. Poo’ baby, wifey doesn’t love him…”
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