Jennifer Bacher / Silhouette Staff

Dear USA Border Control,

It’s been a while.

I know you probably miss our long talks about how you believe I am entering the United States to work and permanently stay, but like I said before, I am not. I hope you enjoyed all those oranges you took from my Grandmother’s purse. Funny how they can leave the United States to be sold in Canada but not return via the vehicle of a kindly old lady. Well, I hope they were tasty. I could have used one while I waited in your crammed waiting room for two hours.

I would also like to point out that I found your racial profiling very obvious. Although, you probably already knew that.

The last time I saw you was at the New York City airport when I was connecting from Switzerland to Canada, and I really enjoyed when you had no consideration for the fact that I was connecting within 45 minutes. Though it was of no concern to you because really, someone who is connecting back to their homeland of Canada is definitely a red flag for future illegal immigrant.

The next time I come to your country I will only be visiting for less then 24 hours so that I can fulfill the American dream: consumerism. That is correct, I do not want a job, I want to shop. So no, I am not bringing firearms or alcohol into your country and yes, I do have stores to go shopping at in Canada. I’m sure you think you are very funny when you ask “What?! You don’t have ‘em stores in Canada?” or “Why do you need shorts and t-shirts for Canada? Shouldn’t you be skiing or something?” I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but you can see Canada from where you are currently sitting.

Truly, I think you should be shaking my hand and welcoming me into your country. I have, for some odd reason, decided to spend my money in your country. I could be shopping in Canada right now, but no I want to come to the United States to empty my wallet at Macy’s and JCPenney for just 24 hours. And I promise, when I’m done, I will go back to where I came from.

I really don’t understand why you need to be so uptight anyway. I thought we were friends?

Yours truly,

A frustrated Canadian traveler