Eye-En-Ess here. I'd write a long, rambling post about my enlightening interview at Vancouver Airport when I flew to NYC on January 27. I knew I'd get hauled in. After all, there were several key details that I knew would trigger their interest:
- one-way ticket *ding! ding! ding!*
- quit my job at the end of December *ding! ding! ding!*
- fiance in Pennsylvania *ding! ding! ding!*
- did not apply for fiance/e visa *ding! ding! ding!*
... and so forth. Raise the red flag! The Canadian wants in!
I'd love to write about what the officer said. What I said. The expressions on his face. His choice of words. The other officer who took an epoch to get clearance for me to continue on to my gate, holding my passport and punching data into a keyboard. The other officers who sat in front of another terminal trying to look officious but probably playing a video game or an online lottery. The lady who sat with a mountain of luggage and a scowl on her face so dark she looked like one word would ignite a mental explosion. The Korean family who got barked at. The gentleman reporting with his mobile phone that "our guy got deported back to Mexico..." The first officer who started out so über-friendly with me that I thought he'd just completed a Customer Satisfaction Seminar, but who became increasingly disappointed with every answer I gave because that meant he'd have to keep hunt-and-pecking more and more data into the computer. The look on his face said he wished I'd just said I was on holiday to Miami so he could just smile and say "Have a nice day, ma'am."
Yes, I'd love to write more about the Eye-En-Ess, but I shouldn't. We consulted with a second immigration lawyer today, and I want to avoid pissing off Aytch-Ess. I am aware of how they've investigated journal entries and their authors. Plus, I've had enough run-ins with immigration agencies to last me a lifetime, thanks.
So, I won't write any more about it. I'll do my darnedest. OK, I'll try...