I’m Canadian, eh?

Canadian flag

Did you know I’m Canadian?  OK, the Canadian government doesn’t actually recognize me as a citizen but I frequently announce my fictional Canadianism to strangers.  Here’s how it works.

I’m walking into the grocery store and before I can get inside someone at a card table loaded with pamphlets asks me if I’m a registered voter.  They’re wielding a clipboard with many signatures and they can’t wait to deliver their schpeel about some proposition on the upcoming ballot or saving the wolverine or some such thing.

 So, in the interest of expediency, I don’t break my stride because it takes all my energy to get inside the market to the pork chop aisle.  $1.99 per pound demands urgency.  Instead of stopping at the card table and admitting I’m a voter and listening to the schpeel I simply say, “I’m Canadian.”  Problem solved, eh?  They aren’t put off by wasting their breath and I don’t have to delay my shopping.  This works 100 % of the time.  I must tell you that I do feel a little guilty when someone says, “Welcome to America!”

I have my sister, Sha, to thank for teaching me this time-saving tool.

Now it’s your turn.  Try it and be Canadian for a day!

Very little is known about the Canadian country since it is rarely visited by anyone but the Queen and illiterate sport fishermen.  —P.J. O’Rourke

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