NSA aren't the only ones watching you

Well. I'm returning from Windsor last night after my Thursday night curling league. And I cleared customs more easily than I cleared the toll booth, which is where you pay the Ambassador Bridge toll between Detroit and Windsor after the Department of Homeland Security has graciously allowed you to return to your own country. I should have been scott free by then, right?

I offer the toll to the toll taker. She doesn't take it. Staring at me, she asks, "You're the curling guy, aren't you?"

"Uh, I curl, yes", I respond uncertainly.

"You're the coach. You're Mike," she says, with a certain triumph in her voice.

I did not correct her that I am often the skip. I instead corrected her, "Um, Marty".

"What? No. I have you down as Mike." She began then to look over some papers in front of her.

"Uhhh, you take notes on the people who pay you tolls?"

"Sure. I like to know who they are, so I can talk to them friendly".

That's okay, I guess. I in truth remembered her myself, and knew her as gregarious and friendly. I really believed her questioning to be innocent enough. Only not enough to take notes about. "You're not Mike?" she asks.

"No, honestly."

"Then you have a twin you can frame for a crime."

So all I have to say is, Mike, who and where are you? Just in case I have to pull off grand larceny and need a fall guy.