I went north a few weeks ago to see Niagara Falls. That's Canada in the picture taken from the New York side. A ferris wheel, maybe a boat landing for the ferry that takes you through the falls in the Spring. But it was winter so the water fell through enormous blocks of ice covered in snow. Steam rose up up and then disappeared like our breath. I forgot my passport but the lady across the bridge said it was no big deal, please come over. c said it was because I’m pretty. She asked what was in our bags and we opened them up. a took out her bikini to show the lady, who laughed. Won’t be needing that at this time of year. This picture was taken before I knew I could get in. Can you sense the longing? We got across the border and all was well. Well, there was a lot of snow and it was very cold. We went through the McDonald’s drive through, stayed there a while deciding but couldn’t because the screen we were supposed to read kept changing. We parked, decided on the same thing we always get, then went through it again, ordered two quarter pounders with cheese and a diet coke, chicken nuggets, fries. We found our way into the AirBNB, took the scary painting of a woman with big eyes down, ate the McDonald’s and drank wine from bottles we got from one of those reno’d corner stores that feels wrong inside because they’re supposed to be dingy and for truckers but now they’re for girls looking for natural wine and so-called local cuisine on their way upstate. We played cards then decided to try to buy some weed but the store was closed so we went to the bar on our way back in our pjs. We played pool to varying degrees of success. Some Canadian boy came up to me and asked if I was religious because my dress was long and my socks were high. I explained to him that no, we were just going outside to buy weed from the store but when we got there the door was closed. Does everything here close so early? This is my nightgown. We were going to bed before this. We started talking about this and that, he’s a cook and doesn’t mind trump so much, he made me laugh quite hard and bought me a beer, and then he asked again: so you’re not Mormon? I laughed more and wrote my number on his arm with what he had in his pocket, a Sharpie. The next day a l and me got breakfast: some of the best blueberry pancakes I’ve ever had, all doughy and soft the kind you can taste the batter in, and Canadian bacon, which is Christmas ham—you know that I know that but for breakfast it’s decadent and delicious and we ate it all up. Ava dipped her sausage in the little plastic dipping container of maple syrup and got the peelable lid stuck to her sleeve near her elbow. Our waitress was an angel whom I named Penny, having not been able to ask her her real name. She pointed us to the shop next door where we could dig around and score some trinkets. The shop guy was a sweetheart and said that no one should ever boo a national anthem. The cat in that store was the friendliest cat I’ve ever met, all orange and fluffy and her actual name was penny. We found rings, magnets, records, gifts, pins, charms, books, all to take home. Which we did later that day, through a blizzard and a podcast all about people for whom sex is their sun moon and stars. Specifically the episode with CumGirl47 or something like that. Eventually I asked l to drive the last hour or so, and she brought us all the way home.
