Kootenay Crust

By Ian Cobb

Had the pleasure of travelling to the Lower Mainland recently, to take part in an ‘engagement party’ for Carrie’s son and fiancée.

It’s been a while since I’ve ventured into the belly of the beast that is Greater Vancouver. For good reason; the place is about one million people too large for the space on hand. Gives me the shivers, all those humans.

Road trips and big cities give one ample opportunity to see in full colour the rampaging stupidity so inherent in our species.

And by stupidity, I also mean mind-bending audacity, rudeness, willing blindness and boxed-into-their-own-worldness to the point they are unaware that there are other people in the world.

After a lovely visit that involved not enough time and too much cognac, we decided to leave Vancouver via Surrey (or “shooterville” as the locals are calling it now) and head into Washington. I had a hankering to see Anacortes (which isn’t named after a lost Spanish sea captain as I assumed, but after a pioneer woman named Anna Curtis), and a need to drive across the North Cascades.

It was 12:10 p.m. when we pulled up to a traffic light before the Pacific Highway border crossing. A sign back on Highway 15 bragged about a 50-minute wait at the border.

We were about eight cars back at the light. It was 12:30 when we finally eked through the light, still about a kilometre from the border.

At about 1:20 p.m. we caught sight of the US border. Five minutes later I became aware of something that really, really pisses me off; rat weasels being rat weasels.

Near the Pacific Highway border crossing there is a small road that intersects with Highway 15 right before the Canadian border.

A car appeared at the stop sign and inched out toward the US border line. Rather than turn right and head back to the end of the long, long line, this audacious SOB was actually going to try and cut into the line. My blood began to boil. I’ve seen this behaviour before.

And lo and behold some gutless fool let that rat weasel in!

A few minutes later two more cars appear at the stop sign, about 20 or so car lengths ahead of us. And two more audacious sons of bitches cut in! Ten minutes later, another one!

When we finally got to the intersection, I was in a full snit, ranting about how society needs to put a stop to all this selfish asshole behaviour. And then a car appeared at the stop sign; a fancy car with a well-dressed prick behind the wheel.

I stared daggers at him and smiled the smile of a man prepared to be a huckleberry. He stared straight ahead and his car inched forward. I jerked my thumb back and mouthed “back of the line asshole” or perhaps it was saltier than that. The car inched forward again and I may have given him the finger. And then a soft nimrod two cars back didn’t move and the rat weasel darted into the line – saving himself about 90 minutes of wait time. “Screw the rest of you,” said Captain Important, “Let me in! Aaargh, I am really really important! Let me in!”

The worst thing is; he got in! In the two hours we sat at that border we saw five people refuse to do the right thing and go to the back of the line. They ‘boldly’ pushed forward and because we Canadians are so ridiculously polite, they got their way.

That isn’t politeness. It is cowardice. It is letting audacious or ignorant dickheads get their way; nothing more.

Sadly, I have seen this ‘line cutting’ before and, just to re-open the wound, we saw it again as we crossed back into Canada at Kingsgate two days later. We’d been in the single line for about half an hour and were about 12 vehicles back of the border when a car passed on the right and stopped at the duty free. I started to feel uneasy.

An older couple walked into the Duty Free and we began to wonder about “what happens when they come out in a couple of minutes?”

Then a red van with danger plates rolled by on my right. Another heading to the duty free, I assumed.

Nope, the van pushed right to near the front of the line and waited. When the line moved, a semi-trailer couldn’t keep pace and the van cut in! A single horn (the truck’s) hooted in annoyance.

Even the always positive and loving Carrie, who does her best to tame the mad Irish Viking in me, began to spit nails – stunned by this person’s audacity.

And they got away with it. We waited in line about 40 minutes, they had a 10 minute wait.

A few minutes later the older couple stepped out of the duty free. They too, had to cut in line. But in fairness, there is nothing else to do at that spot. I let the sheepish looking old fella in front of us and he politely waved. The difference was he didn’t ‘mean’ to be in that spot. They just wanted to go in the duty free and circumstances are they either wait forever during a busy summer day to ‘get in the back of the line’ or they have to cut in.

That didn’t bother me. It’s the audacious and ignorant rat weasels who just ‘find themselves’ in a place where they ‘have’ to cut into the line. I guarantee some of these bastards do it on purpose.

This behaviour occurs at the Roosville border. When the line heading back into Canada is long weekend in scale, border cutters drive into the duty free, pause for effect, then exit the store. Instead of turning right and heading to the back of the line (possibly because of duty free rules), they just butt into line.

Again, it boggles me that people allow themselves to be pushed around by assholes like that. You DON’T HAVE TO let them in. Smile at them, wave perhaps, pick your nose and drool if you have to – but stand your ground.

So stop it you quivering pack of wincers. Stand up for your rights and tell line cutters to pound sand.

This me me me-mine crap has gone on long enough. It is time for everyone to respect the hell up.

And hey, Canadian and American border services – figure out a way to cut down on this reprehensible behaviour. Those of us who politely wait our turn do not deserve to be elbowed in the ribs by bellicose oinks or by ignorant tools.

Perhaps if they can be observed being rude bastages, you could give them a little extra of the ole rubber glove treatment when they slink before your border gate.

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