My family and I recently had a wonderful trip to Niagara Falls and Canada. We thought we got away clean — just some souvenirs, some memories, and an enhanced appreciation for poutine.
But they got us.
Those crack Canadian highway marshals, members of the fabled 407 Brigade, finally tracked us down. Politely, of course. Apparently our New Jersey EZ Pass, worn down from years of Garden State Parkway trauma, does not work up north, and we owe roughly twenty-two Canadian dollars. Probably political retaliation.
Honestly, I’m a little surprised the toll notice wasn’t hand-delivered by a Mountie on mooseback smelling faintly of maple syrup. I assume most Ontarians have their toll accounts linked directly to the family maple tree, and every time they pass under a gantry another thimble of syrup gets diverted into the infrastructure fund like Canadian OPEC.
The notice itself was very nice, though. In fact, it took a moment to brag about its award-winning customer service. Which awards, exactly? Is there an EZ Pass Olympics? Do nations march behind tiny tollbooths at the opening ceremonies? Does Canada absolutely dominate the Gold Token count?
And if there is an EZ Pass Olympics, I assume the opening ceremonies are delayed due to an exact-change-only lane and a minor tuk-tuk / vintage Volkswagen pileup near the international cash plaza.
Anyway, I am definitely going to pay. I’m not sure what happens if I don’t. Is there an EZ Pass Interpol? Are there countries with no toll extradition treaty? Could I become the subject of a low-level cross-border dispute known in diplomatic circles as The Incident of the Unsettled Seventeen U.S. Dollars?
I also have several broader questions. What is the significance of 407? Is it the number of poutine flavors? The number of Mountie theme songs? The number of times Canada asked for independence before Britain remembered they still technically had some paperwork?
Just kidding, Canada. I do love you, and I’m even half Canadian. I’m also left-handed, and back in college some circles knew me as “Funny Mike,” which I believe statistically increases the odds that I have at least one distant connection to Tim Hortons.
Still, I’m paying the bill. I do not want to start an international incident. Pretty sure the War of 1812 began over some kind of toll misunderstanding, and I don’t want history repeating itself because I got cocky over a 25.133 kilometer drive.
So yes — pay your Canadian tolls, be kind to Canadians, and remember: you may not believe in Bigfoot, but he definitely believes in you.