Oh, Canada

Whenever I travel to a different country (which is only like thrice, maybe four times), I try to not live to the stereotypes of being American - lazy, stupid, entitled, etc. I've done a pretty good job of that, I think, except for one time. About six or seven years ago, I went to Edmonton (that's in Canada) with my cousins, the Jackson family. They have a pretty large family, so we traveled in a really big van. I mean really big. We had a generator and a TV in there. My second cousin (that's his relation to me, he's not my second cousin, like the second one to exist or whatever), Billy, and I played Xbox for almost the whole drive.

When we got to Edmonton, we went to the West Edmonton Mall. I'm not sure if there is an East Edmonton Mall, but if there is, there shouldn't be because the West Edmonton Mall is the largest mall in North America. Since most of you aren't Canadian, very few of you have probably ever heard of the WEM (that's what I like to call it) and thought the Mall of America was the biggest mall in North America. Ha. Silly Americans.

The WEM has a hotel in it, and this is the hotel in which we stayed. Billy, his brother, Elijah, their cousin Joshua, and I shared a suite. Billy and I decided we should hook up the Xbox to the TV in our suite. Unfortunately, the audio and video ports on the TV were blocked. No problem - we'll just get the TV from the van, we thought. We went out to the parking lot and found the van. Unbeknownst to us, there had been a recent spree of crime in the area, and more cops were on patrol than normal. Billy was in the van unplugging the TV when a couple of cops pulled up in their car. I'm sure it looked pretty fishy - one teenager in a van and another teenager keeping watch. The cops called me over. "Oh, man. This probably looks a bit sketchy. Oh well - I'll clear things up," I thought. Unfortunately, I hadn't yet mastered the English language. Or problem solving.

"What are you guys doing?" asked one cop.

"Oh, we're just taking the TV out of the van," I responded. As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted saying them. I became flustered, which didn't make the situation any better.

"Uh-huh... I see. Is this your van?"

"No. Well it's not my van, it's his van," I said, motioning to Billy, who was still inside the van. "Well, it's not his van, it's his dad's van." I felt like telling the truth was the most important thing for me to do, regardless of the sketchiness used to tell it.

"Uh... right. Do you have any form of ID on you?"

"Um, I have a debit card...? Does that count?" I was only 14, I think. I didn't have my driver's permit, and I certainly didn't have my driver's license.

"Yeah, sure, let's see that." I handed the cop my debit card. I have no idea what purpose that could've served. I peeked at what they were writing, and it was just my name. "Alright, Joe, have a nice day," the one cop said, and they just drove off.

I poked my head in the van to see how close Billy was to having the TV unplugged from everything. He looked up and asked, "Hey, who were you talking to?"