nobody is illegal

This afternoon, we drove straight through some barriers at the border and blew into Detroit hootin' and hollerin'. Two blocks later, the car's serpentine belt snapped, so we pulled over. Some helpful Americans called us a tow truck, which arrived half an hour later driven by a grizzled old black guy who spoke too quickly to be understood. We hopped inside and he drove us to his son's auto shop.

The shop was fifteen minutes away in a run-down neighbourhood. As we drove, he told us that his son still resents him for never being around while he was growing up, but assured us that he dilgently paid his child support on time. While we were figuring out how to pay the son, the dad came over and offered his portable credit card machine. The son just kept saying, "I got this, I got this, I got this," as the dad insisted he was just trying to make sure everything was ok. It was our cheapest and quickest car repair job so far.

Now we're at Haley's house, waiting for her to come home and trying to make friends with her cat, Owlsley.