Canadians Come to Visit Us Here in Point Roberts

Lots of Canadians come down here for ten or fifteen minute trips to pick up packages, to get some gas, some butter and cheese, whatever.  They save money.  I understand that.  We do get a penny for each gallon of gas they buy, but we can't use it to do anything but build roads and we don't need any more roads here, really.

The crowds at the border are an inconvenience for residents here, but the Canadian visitors are mostly a nice sort.  They often provide support for the new library fundraising, they make the grocery store a financially viable operation.  But some of them, sometimes are--I don't quite get it because they are generally so pleasant and cooperative--a real pain in the neck.

Today, we were driving along the road a few blocks from our house when we noticed a couple of mailing boxes lying, soggy, on the shoulder of the road.  Not all that rare: people buy stuff and then throw the packaging away so that they don't have to pay any sales tax when returning to Canada or so that they don't have to throw the boxes away at their own house.  We stopped, picked up the boxes, and put them in the car to throw away at our house.

The boxes had, as in such cases is almost always true, no labels.  The trash droppers feel guilty enough about what they're about to do that they don't want us to know who is doing it.  Inside the boxes were plastic bags and, surprisingly, both a black jacket missing several buttons, and a packing slip.  I'm sure they didn't mean to leave the packing slip there, but they did.

So, DORSA GHADIRINIA, who lives in West Vancouver (street address upon request), I hope you are enjoying your new 3/4 sleeve black cardigan and your "Yosi Samra Chain T-strap Foldable, midnight/gold serpent, 9 m" shoes, I guess.   [ update:  my granddaughter sends me the photo of the shoes from Nordstrom's, but they are not, alas, foldable, she notes.]  And I'm not sure what you want me to do about your old black jacket with the military decorations and the missing buttons, but maybe I'll just be mailing it all back to you.  And may I fervently urge you, in the future, to avoid Point Roberts?