Borderline

Note: This post was originally published October 2, 2018. I revamped and revised it to fit my 2024 life on April 8.

April is a notoriously terrible time for my finances. Each year I was with TJ’s – prepare yourselves accordingly as a farewell and onward post highlighting my time at TJ’s comes soon – I received my annual bonus. Of course, this bonus helped me pay down my debt some, but it also helped me enhance my wardrobe amongst a variety of other life enhancements. Well, this April, in the week I’ve taken for myself between TJ’s and my next adventure, I’m heading to Cancun, Mexico! This impromptu trip didn’t come cheap, but after the year I’ve had (again, note that we’re only in April!) I feel that I most definitely deserve it!

As I leave here for Mexico in a couple days I’m left reflecting on the first time I – mistakenly – went to Mexico. You see, Mark, who I affectionately call my California Dad, is pretty much the polar opposite of me when it comes to spending money. I wouldn’t call him cheap by any means, but he is definitely conscious and aware of his spending and truly only does so when he has to, where as I’m – well, we get the idea. Anyway, Mark’s reservations towards spending money took me on an unexpected international trip that was truly anything but a vacation!

Mark, a phenomenal Southern California real estate agent, had some sort of real estate convention down in Mexico and a friend of his who was also attending this conference, booked him a departing flight out of the airport in Tijuana, Mexico. Apparently this was a lot cheaper for this friend of his, well, what this guy saved in price, I ended up spending ten fold in stress.

Don’t ask me how, I really cannot explain to you what happened at the time, but somehow, much to my misfortune, on our commute to the borderline, we missed the last American exit and drove right into Mexico. Now yes, I’m sure there were plenty of signs warning us the last exit was approaching. I don’t remember any, but if there’s signs letting me know around St. Louis that the last Missouri exit or last Illinois exit is approaching, I can rest assured there are some letting commuters know the last AMERICAN exit is coming up. Regardless of any such postings, the exit was, as I said, missed.

Mexico was incredibly easy to enter. All in all, very few guards at a single checkpoint and for the most part, we just waltzed on in. Needless to say, entering Mexico without intent – or my passport for that matter – was not on my 2015 bucket list. The original idea was for me to drop Mark off at the last American exit and he would walk across the border and take a taxi to the airport. Since that idea instantly became null and void, I followed the airport signs – these signs I did notice – to get him to the airport. After all, this was our reason for being there.

It took about fifteen minutes, but I got him to the airport safe and sound and all things considered, far ahead of schedule since he budgeted time to walk and taxi there from the border. So for Mark, this was definitely a win. For me, not so much. I was now left with the curious task of getting myself out of Mexico and back to the United States.

One notable thing that happened as soon as I crossed the borderline, my phone quit working. Literally completely useless. Sure, it would let me take a picture, of which I took none, but as far as calling, texting, GPS, anything that might’ve been able to assist me on my journey out was not happening.

Despite having taken several years of Spanish, I am by no means fluent and could truly only pick up a word here and there on their official road signs. This communication barrier coupled with their rather eccentric road system proved to be quite the formidable opponent in my hopes of getting out quickly.

I had paid dangerously close attention to how I was driving to the airport as I figured the reverse would be my best bet at returning home. Unfortunately, that proved to not be the case. The makeshift road system left much to be desired and the general lack of traffic lights and signage made things even more distressing. I drove along the wall separating the two countries as long as possible and when I saw the interstate overpass looming in the distance high above the town, I set off in its direction. A large army of vehicles were clearly visible on this overpass all waiting patiently to enter the United States. I knew this is where I needed to be.

I found a road that ran parallel to the overpass and promptly got on it, following along its straight and narrow pathway for as long as I was able, hoping and praying that an on ramp would soon present itself. It never did and instead of running along the overpass as it had at first, the road began to twist, turn, and split, leaving me further and further from the overpass. This caused me great unease and uncertainty. I knew I needed to pause and collect myself and my thoughts, so I pulled into the first gas station I stumbled upon.

I got out of Mark’s work car and went inside the convenience mart to get an ice cold Mexican Coca-Cola. I knew that nectar of the Gods would give me the nutritional boost I needed. While paying for my drink (thank the Lord they accepted American dollars) I asked the gentlemen behind the counter if they spoke English. They stated they did not. I asked a couple other patrons in the establishment if they did as well and no one claimed to do so. This was not looking good for me and gave me the immediate sensation I was going to poop my pants and we all already know this shit is for real. So, given there was no telling if and when I would ever be back home again, I knew I had to find the nearest available restroom – post haste!

Luckily, restroom is a Spanish word I will NEVER forget (el baño), so I was able to inquire about where the one for the gas station was located Donde esta el baño? The attendant gave me a key and pointed outside and I promptly made my way in his pointed direction. I could not unlock that door fast enough. My ears were pounding with the drumbeats of my heart and beads of sweat were rolling down my face. Once I got inside the pleasantly well-cleaned facility, I first gently placed my chilled Coca-Cola on the sink counter and then took a seat on the sole ceramic toilet. My tummy was turnin’ and I was feelin’ kinda homesick, too much pressure and I was nervous, that’s when I reached over and grabbed my Coke and just sat there on the toilet and drank it. I know y’all are thinking this is all kinds of nasty, but desperate times called for desperate measures. My body needed the nutrients from that Coke and I was scared that if I drank it in my car I would find myself having to use the restroom again in the not-so-distant future, so I just sat there and as I consumed the Coke from one end, I relieved myself from the other.

Once I felt absolutely certain that there was no additional waste inside my body, I went and returned the attendant his key, got back in Mark’s work car, and came to terms with the fact that the only person who could get me back to the United States was the one looking right back at me in the rearview mirror. I knew I didn’t have to do this alone though, so I called upon my guardian angel to see me through this labyrinth of chaos and uncertainty life threw my way: Céline Dion.

I picked up my iPod Classic, scrolled swiftly to my Céline Dion playlist, and chose the one song that speaks to me most, That’s The Way It Is. I sat there in the gas station parking lot with my eyes closed while the sound of Céline’s triumphant voice circled all around me.

When you want it the most, there’s no easy way out!

When you’re ready to go and your heart’s left in doubt!

Don’t give up on your faith! Love comes to those who believe it!

And That’s The Way It Is!

I could literally feel the stress of the situation melting away with each passing lyric. After that perfect four minute and one second interlude I was ready to find my way out of Tijuana.

There was a slightly blind corner from where I was turning out of the gas station and as a result, I was nearly side swiped by a speeding truck. This was not the start I was hoping for, so I quickly hit that back button on my Céline playlist giving That’s The Way It Is another go. While driving I took quick notice that around this part of town traffic signals were interpreted as more of a suggestion than an actual rule of the road and knew from here on out I would have to conform my driving style to that of the locals.

As I was driving seemingly aimlessly along this frontage road of sorts, far below the elevated freeway I needed to be on, I saw something that made my heart leap in a way that it would if I was at a Céline Dion concert: an onramp to the overpass! I was ecstatic! I savagely cut someone off turning onto that onramp lane and patiently jammed to That’s The Way It Is on repeat as I inched closer and closer to freedom.

The lane I was in was packed! Bumper to bumper traffic, so as I was barely moving at easily less than five miles per hour, I had plenty of time to observe my surroundings. Now that I was really into paying attention to signs, I noticed a multitude of very official ones informing me I was in SENTRI lane. I had no idea just what that meant, so I thought nothing of it, but figured this had to be of some importance by the sheer volume of signage announcing the lane. I definitely did find it odd that the main interstate of backed up vehicles was barely moving at all while mine was maintaining a steady, albeit slow, flow towards the border. This gave me the obvious indication that I was perhaps somewhere I shouldn’t be, but nonetheless, I maintained course.

Now that I felt like I was in a better place, I began to truly notice the city around me and was rather surprised at just how third world it was compared with some of the other countries I’d been too. Even Kenya and Thailand didn’t seem as impoverished as this. From the eclectically and electrically painted buildings, seemingly random pop-up tents, free-range dogs and cats, multiple people coming up to my car and knocking on my windows all made me incredibly thankful I was there during the middle of the day and not in the middle of the night!

After what was at least a half hour of inching along in this SENTRI lane, it was finally my turn to drive up to the guard station. As I did, a young soldier came out to my car, which let me reiterate was actually Mark’s work car, and asked me for my passport, driver’s license, and SENTRI Pass. This became an immediate problem as I only had one of the three.

I meekly handed my Illinois state driver’s license over to him. He then pressed me for the other two, to which I had to inform him that I unfortunately had neither.

“DID YOU NOT REALIZE YOU WERE IN THE SENTRI LANE!?!” He hollered at me.

“Absolutely I did, yes,” my head shaking up and down as my voice went in and out. I’ll admit, I was extraordinarily nervous, but I continued, “there were so many signs, it was impossible not to notice that was the lane I was in.”

“THEN WHY WERE YOU IN IT!?!” He first demanded to know before cutting my tepid response off with, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THE SENTRI LANE IS!?!”

“Spanish for exit, right?” I lied casually. The true Spanish word for exit is salida, and I knew that, but I had no idea what the SENTRI lane was so this seemed like a good answer at the time.

The soldier stood there shaking his head in disbelief before finally speaking, “no, the SENTRI lane is a kind of express lane for people who frequently cross the border.” Initially, I was thankful his voice was no longer heated and fiery, but his new cold and curious demeanor was equally unsettling. “Why were you here in Tijuana?” He asked.

I told him I was supposed to drop my dad (Mark) off at the borderline so he could walk across and catch a taxi to the airport, but we missed the last exit and instead ended up in Mexico. He then asked me where my dad was and I told him I dropped him off at the airport. I thankfully still had my Illinois plates and license at the time, so I told him we just moved to California from Illinois and had no idea what we were really doing and some friend of his set his flights up at the Tijuana airport. He stood there and listened to my quick story and then said something that made my heart fall right into my underwear.

“Do you realize it’s a $5,000 fine for the violation of the SENTRI lane?”

Now this was problematic. Coming full circle to my spending habits, they were way worse in California. I was in debt like I’d never been in debt before when I lived there, so the prospect of spending $50 for the SENTRI lane was laughable, much less $5,000! I said the only thing I could think of to say, “just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” This oft-quoted line of mine and Melissa’s preceded a probably pretty chaotic rant about how I couldn’t find access to the elevated interstate leading out of Mexico and the SENTRI lane was all I could find. If my heart was pounding before, it was nothing compared to what it was doing in that moment. The soldier just stared at me grimly after I finished my word vomit and told me to sit tight and he would be right back shortly.

Within moments, two other guards came and stood near Mark’s car as I watched the one who I had been conversing with walk towards an office that was centered amongst all the lanes of traffic. It felt like he was in there forever, but I wasn’t complaining. I was ever so thankful that I had fully cleansed my body earlier because if I hadn’t, I would’ve made a mess of myself and Mark’s car.

The original soldier made his way back over to me and said that despite my violation, he was going to send me through, but there would be a series of security checkpoints I would need to progress through first. I thanked him repeatedly and bid him farewell as an official vehicle led me through a maze of concrete to the additional checkpoints.

As I entered what resembled the lower level of a parking garage, I was met with a security detail of personnel who instructed me to exit Mark’s vehicle and leave everything except myself inside it. Now the one detail I left out all along was that while yes, this was Mark’s work car, it wasn’t for his real estate profession. Nope, not that job, but oh how I wish it was given that this car was his company car for his role as a pharmaceutical sales representative! The entire trunk was stocked full of pill samples!

Now I knew everything back there was totally good and fine, but those soldiers certainly didn’t! I also knew that this looked wildly bizarre, suspicious, and completely insane! Of course not only did I not have a coveted SENTRI Pass or my passport, but now I was flexing a trunk full to the brim with boxes of pill samples! Needless to say, this truly was the perfect storm of chaos and crazy.

As I went and waited near a set of pillars with two armed guards, I watched as several other soldiers searched Mark’s car thoroughly over. Within moments another official vehicle pulled up and more soldiers got out, only these people had leashed dogs. The soldiers next to me started inquiring about the boxes of pills and I had to repeat over and over that my dad was a pharmaceutical representative and he gives these out to his various doctor office clients.

I almost always want to laugh in moments that shouldn’t be laughed in and this one was certainly no exception. I couldn’t believe the hand fate had dealt me this day. What an insane mess. It was honestly hilarious to me, but rather than laughing out loud as I knew I shouldn’t of, I sang myself some Céline in my head. Her soothing voice helped calm, ease, and comfort me through this delirious debacle.

After what felt like forever, they ushered me back inside my car and led me to another area that looked nearly identical to the first and we repeated the same process. Only this time, we didn’t have to wait for dogs. They were already on the scene. So once again I stood far from my car next to two armed guards, in complete silence mind you, as I watched them search Mark’s car inside and out.

As the second inspection raged on, a female officer came over to me and began firing off a bunch of questions. Mostly all the same as the initial soldier had asked at the border gate. The only differences between her questions and the first guy’s was now she was wanting to know everywhere I had been in Tijuana. This was a short answer as it was only the airport and the gas station. She asked me the same set of questions over and over as Mark’s car was repeatedly searched. When she asked me where I was from in Illinois I so badly wanted to say Cutesville, but this was obviously not the time to be cute, so I answered appropriately. She also pressed me repeatedly about the boxes of pills. I of course answered her truthfully, but I couldn’t help but shake my head some in disbelief that I had missed that last American exit and was now having Mark’s car inspected for what was basically the third time while it was stocked full of prescription pill packs!

I just needed this insanity to wrap itself up favorably because I was honestly at this point not sure where life was headed. Soon after her line of questioning, she handed me a set of papers along with my driver’s license and told me I could get back inside my vehicle and I would be escorted to the final gates allowing me to enter the United States. I thanked her every bit as much as I did the first soldier and scurried back inside the car. I couldn’t wait for this whack nightmare to be over.

While I was comfortably inside Mark’s car driving cautiously through this parking structure, I was escorted by more security vehicles than I had been at any point on this journey. This definitely gave me further cause for unease, but nonetheless, I persisted. At the checkpoint I slowly rolled down the car window and meekly handed over the papers I’d been given. After answering the same set of questions I had twice earlier, I was clear for entry. Driving back into the United States was blessing unlike any other I’d experienced before. As soon as I noticed my phone back up and running you best believe I called Melissa as fast as my fingers allowed. Needless to say, I could not tell this whack story fast enough!

Well, as always, THANK YOU so much for viewing! Hope you all enjoyed this revamped rendition of one of my earliest posts! I’ll return soon with another all-new post, so until then, I wish you all, all the best!