(I live in a small Canadian town and the area is a well-known spot for touristic deer hunting, so it’s not unusual for us to have a number of American customers. I can tell this is the situation for one group of men that comes in one day; all are wearing full camouflage and have thick Southern accents.)

Customer: “You didn’t give me my change!”

Me: “Yes, I did.”

Customer: “You’re trying to rip me off, aren’t you?! You owe me two dollars change, and now you’re trying to convince me that this is two dollars! I know better than that! What are these gold things?!“

(He shoves his hand towards me… where he holds two loonies. I have a very hard time not taking my palm to my face.)

Me: *calmly* “That’s two dollars; in Canada, we have a loonie, which is a dollar coin instead of a dollar bill.”

(He said nothing and walked back to his table.)

(Something they never tell you until you move to a southern state is that Southerners get very touchy about what actually constitutes “The South.” It’s a particularly sore spot in places like Oklahoma, where geographically the state straddles three different regions. My boyfriend is Oklahoma born and bred, and has some strong opinions on the culture.)

Friend: “Oh, c’mon, Oklahoma isn’t the South! You gotta earn your cowboy boots!”

Boyfriend: “What?! Oklahoma historically invented cowboy culture! You’re from Virginia! All you invented was f****** slavery!”

(I live in Canada. I am with my dad at a local ice cream parlour. We are waiting to order when the woman in front of us starts yelling at the cashier.)

Customer: “NO! I want my change back in American! You hear me?! I don’t want any of your Monopoly money!”

(My dad looks over her shoulder and, sure enough, she is waving a red $50 bill in the cashier’s face.)

Dad: “Madam, I would be more than happy to take that off your hands.”

(The woman snatched up the money and left in a huff. Why is it that some people think they can get the same currency back when they’re in a foreign country?)

(My seventh-grade history teacher spends about two weeks teaching us world geography. She starts off by having everyone find out where our ancestors came from, and then she posts our pictures on a world map with strings pointing to our nations of origin and the year our families immigrated to America. Then, we do basic exercises with every continent. The final project of the unit involves using latitude, longitude, and rulers to find out where we are in the world and where we are going based on coordinates. If you are in the USA, you have to name the state. If you are in Canada, you have to name the province. If you are anywhere else, you have to name the country. I do this assignment successfully, except for the last question. I follow the coordinates and wind up in London. I write “England” as my answer and turn in the sheet.)

Teacher: “It’s not England. Do the calculations again.”

(I try again, this time ending up in the Irish Sea, so I write “Ireland.”)

Teacher: “It’s not Ireland. Do it again. Remember, you’re looking for a country.”

(I try yet again, and again I end up in London. This time, I write “Great Britain.” My classmates are also struggling with this question. The teacher keeps telling us we’re looking for a country. As a class, we come up with England, Britain, Great Britain, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, and Wales as possible answers. All of these are wrong.)

Teacher: *fed up at this point, addresses the class as a whole* “The country you are looking for is the United Kingdom.”

Classmate: “Is that actually a country?”

Teacher: “Yes.”

(On the actual geography test later that week, the UK is the correct answer for “Which country is London in?” My school system is very small, with only one middle school and one high school. The middle school has maybe three teachers per core subject per year with fewer teachers for the elective classes. This means a third of the student body population has this teacher tell them the UK is a country. Two years later, in ninth grade, I’m taking a required world geography class for my history credit that year. We go into much greater detail than we did in seventh grade. When we reach Europe, the teacher starts off with this:)

Geography Teacher: “Who in here had [Seventh-Grade Teacher]?”

(Almost half the class raises their hands.)

Geography Teacher: “Right. I’m going to tell you this now. The United Kingdom is not a country. I know what she told you, but she’s wrong. Please do not write down the UK as a country on tests.”

(On Canadian Thanksgiving Day, an hour before supper, I’m scrambling preparing food when the phone rings and, lo and behold, I’ve won a cruise! Frustrated at the timing, I let it go to the operator…)

Me: “Hi. It’s Thanksgiving evening suppertime and I don’t appreciate being called. Please take me off your list.”

Scammer: “It’s not Thanksgiving.”

Me: *dumbfounded that they don’t even know where they’re calling* “I’m in Canada, you knob. It’s Thanksgiving here. Take me off your list, please.”

Scammer: “No.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Scammer: “No. Not until you say sorry for calling me a knob.”

(Granted, I shouldn’t be calling people names, but considering the circumstances…)

Me: “Yeah, that’s not going to happen now. You may be in America, but in Canada it’s Thanksgiving and your scam is interrupting our supper.”

Scammer: “I’m not really American. One of my parents is Mexican and the other is American.”

Me: “How’s that relevant? Please take me off your list.”

Scammer: “Just America is better and we earn money way faster than you.”

Me: “I doubt that at a scam job, and I’ll stick with my free healthcare, thanks.”

Scammer: “We out-earn you, and this isn’t a scam.”

Me: “Really? I really won a free cruise?”

Scammer: *perks up* “Yes, you did, ma’am!”

Me: “No, I didn’t. Take me off your list and HAPPY THANKSGIVING!” *hangs up*

(I was thankful to get off the phone.)