It hurts to tell it, but I will tell you the story.

It was July 4th. Independence Day. Independence Day, my ass. I was coming home from Canada. Who knew I had to be so nervous about crossing the border? I made it to the airport, checked my bag and headed to customs with thoughts of Starbucks dancing in my head. The customs official took my paperwork and looked through them. Apparently deciding everything was in order he finally glanced up at me and started to ask "Why were you visiting...." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. I was a little taken aback, I mean, all I wanted was to get home, right? He held up one finger and picked up his phone. I couldn't make out what was said, although I did hear snippets of the conversation. "That distasteful..." "internet" and "...followers". I waited for an explanation. He had hardly hung up the phone when I heard a very serious voice at my elbow. "Excuse me, ma'am. Please follow me quietly. We don't want to cause a scene". I turned to find a security guard next to me, pointing to a hallway nearby. I couldn't imagine what they wanted with me. I asked "What's this all about?" He cleared his throat and said to me "We have reason to believe you're harboring a fugitive on your person". Now I was very confused. How could I be harboring a criminal on my person? "In your sweater, ma'am". I'm a very upstanding citizen; I've never been arrested, I haven't even been given a speeding ticket in the past 10 years, for crying out loud. I looked past the security guard to see several more guards, all standing with their hands close to their holsters. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why they suspected me of such a crime. This was insane! I started to protest, and in my determination to convey my innocence, I made the grave mistake of placing my hand near my heart. This is where everything gets a little blurry. I recall hearing someone yell "Watch out, men, she's reaching for him!" then I found myself face down on the floor, hands bound with a zip tie. They took me to a small room and interrogated me for what seemed like hours. Over and over again I proclaimed "I don't know him, I swear! No, I don't know where he lives. No, I don't know his real name. I don't know anything! Please, please may I have a peppermint mocha!" They finally released me and I headed home with a caffeine withdrawal headache and instructions to never enter Canada again. Needless to say.....





I'm never wearing

this shirt

when I travel

again.