Nobody Asked Me, But…

Week 4

O, Canada

I finally figured out what I’ve been doing wrong during my many weekends spent combing the city of Ashland for something fun and exciting (read: anything open past eight that doesn’t involve cows, tipping, or angry, fist-shaking Amishmen named Jonas). I haven’t been leaving the country.

Canada, people, that’s where all the action is. Just like America, only nicer, cleaner, and open late.

I don’t remember exactly how we decided on this road trip. My friends Kelly, Dan, Alan and I were sitting around, debating the age-old bowling vs. dollar movie question ("Bowling, I say! We’re going bowling, or so help me God I’ll tip this cow over right now!") when Alan said, in jest, "Why not just go to Canada?"

Now, normally I am not a very spontaneous person, except when it comes to buying very expensive things I don’t need, like a CD burner or a small Shetland pony, which, by the way, will totally stink up your dorm room. In fact, I usually make a detailed plan for what I intend to do after dinner, down to the minute (7 pm-- visit lavatory re: Convo. 7:36 pm—come up with convincing story as to why I had a copy of The Canterbury Tales in stall with me.)

But on this particular evening, nothing sounded better to me than an eight hour round trip car ride to gamble for three hours in a foreign country.

So, at eight o’clock, we struck out on the road, fulfilling the all-American dream of every college student: going to Canada.

I would like to stress to my parents at this point that we did not take my car, as there are only two rules in my family punishable by death: don’t let someone else drive your car, and don’t leave the country in it. (In other words, no trips across the border. But if you want to drive by yourself to California—A-OK!) So, with Kelly at the wheel, we drove non-stop to Canada, which is, as far as I’m concerned, the second greatest country in the world, with Belgium being the first, of course.

I mean, they’ve got those waffles. Let’s be realistic.

But we get to Canada, and what’s the first thing I see? Gas, $.67. Sixty-seven cents! For gasoline! Glorious, glorious, cheap gas! I was fully prepared to leap out and fill everything I could find, including my coffee cup and, if necessary, my backpack with the sweet, sweet nectar, when Kelly pointed out to me that gas in Canada is sold in liters, which is about a gazillionth (give or take a decimal point) of a gallon. But still, if there had ever been a moment I was ready to renounce my citizenship, it would have been then.

The rest of the night, we did wholesome things—gambled, checked out the Canadians (who, as a general rule, are a handsome, handsome people), and posed in provocative positions with a giant mountie statue we found on the street. We had planned to do more—I petitioned for a trip to a nudie bar—for research purposes only—but was quashed—but soon ran out of time, as everyone knows that if Americans don’t cross the border before sun-up their accents change.

We were lucky enough to mingle with some of the natives, however, including one charmingly intoxicated gentleman who, beer in hand, leapt out into the street in front of us to tell us one of our headlights was out. Not only was this noble man willing to risk his life for our safety, he was drinking from an open container outdoors! It’s enough to bring a tear to the eye.

And to top it all off, Kelly managed (after a brief scuffle at customs, in which we mistakenly tried to cross the border through the truck lane—do not attempt this under any circumstances, unless you want to receive The Canadian Look of Death) to avoid paying any tolls on the way home, because—and this is a little known fact—apparently sometimes tollbooth workers decide they just don’t want to sit in those boxes anymore and they just leave, allowing any border ruffians to travel freely from state to state.

So we returned home safely, fourteen hours after we left, having gypped the state of New York out of $2.12, and feeling pretty darn good about ourselves.

Let’s hope our trip to Tiajuana goes as well next weekend!