One of these runs Willie and I took along the border of Texas and Mexico was particularly long, as it started in Louisiana and went through many active border patrol checkpoints. I was getting tired of getting in line and pulling up to the officer and rolling down my window and answering, “yes I’m a US citizen, yes there’s a co-driver in the back…yes, he is a US citizen.”

Got to what I would guess was my 3rd or 4th checkpoint and rolled down my window and this officer jumps up on my door and his face was like 3 inches from mine, max. My first thought, “Damn, he smells good.” My second thought, “I just smelled a man!” Before I could dig around in my mental tool box and figure out what to do with that, he rapid fired the following questions:

“Do you have anybody else in the truck? Do you have a dog? Do you have any pets? Are there any weapons in the truck? Handguns? Shotguns? Bazookas? Hand grenades?”

Well, I noticed another guard sort of move up behind him with a dog on a leash, and that had me stammer, ” I,I m-my co-driver is a human!”

He immediately said, “Wake him up I need to talk to him.”

So I opened the curtain and yelled, “Willie, come out here! This one’s doing stuff!”

Willie has long white hair and a neatly trimmed white beard. Like anyone, he looks a bit rough when he first wakes up. Well, he came out, one eye open and was like, “Huh?” I looked at him and thought, “Holy crap, he looks like a wizard on crack!”

The officer sharply asked him “Are you a US citizen?!?!?”

Willie frowned and said, “Yeah, for a long f&@king time now.”

I’m glad the floorboard was somewhat soft because my jaw hit it hard. I was staring at Willie trying to decide if this was real or not, and he was already moving back into the sleeper and closing the curtain. I slowly turned my head to see what the officers reaction was, and he had already jumped down and was walking back to his office. I’m sitting there wondering what the hell do I do now? Should I drive off? Should I stay? Is there another option?!??

I asked the guard with the dog who was still standing there like a statue, “Am I good? Can I go?”

He made an almost imperceptible nod, and I crammed the truck into gear. The last thing I looked at was the dog and if I’m lying, I’m dying… he was slowly shaking his head side to side as if to say, “You’re a couple of oats shy of a granola bar, dude.”