Background. After months of mind games (using electron microscopes to find fly specks on my headshot so it could reject my application and destroy our travel plans), Passport Canada reluctantly awarded me a new passport but sent my driver’s license and birth certificate to a stranger, Mr. X.
They also sent me Mr. X’s old passport and his critical citizenship certificate.
When it comes to aiding and abetting identity theft, Passport Canada wins the Oscar.
When I phoned to find out what was going on, Passport Canada was hurtful and rude to me.
I managed to find one nice person (Person 000). Possibly a sleeper agent.
She asked me to send Mr. X’s documents back to her. They would attempt to track down my vital documents, documents that any criminal could use to empty our bank accounts.
The Minister of Foreign Affairs Canada (which runs the Passport department) was forced to resign.
Maxime Bernier’s sin?
Other then screwing with yours truly, Maxime B. had left both his heart and sensitive documents at his girlfriend’s house — who was mixed up with the Hell’s Angels.
My wife became unstable. She feared Passport Canada had passed my ID to a biker gang and those fun-loving lads would max out our credit cards and drain the equity from our home.
Mrs. Summers forbade me to return X’s documents in light of the brouhaha with the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
“We need to retain a bargaining chip and some kind of proof of what is going on,” said Mrs. Summers.
Now I was in the midst of a terrible waiting game.
Slowly an hour passed, then another. Not a single email arrived from any of Foreign Affairs’ 5,000 employees. One reason might have been it was past four PM. I learned everyone had gone home for dinner.
My only option was to find my documents myself.
I vowed to track down Mr. X. (I gave him the code name “The Man from Cairo” since he had been born in Egypt. This was on his documents I had.)
Using an unknown tool to the world of espionage (the phone book), I unearthed Miss A.
Miss A was an Armenian who knew someone, who knew someone, who might know X.
I unearthed many other people, all of them quite cross for being disturbed in the middle of their evening meals.
I had a rough sleep and dreamed that the Man from Cairo used my ID to clean out our hopelessly inadequate nest egg. He also cleaned out our desk and we finally got rid of dozens of 2B pencils with worn-out erasers.
I woke and the nightmare was over, except that the pencils still remained.
There were subtle signs my iron nerves were starting to give out. My tummy was upset.
Then Miracle of Miracles, Mr. X called me as I was brushing my teeth after vomiting.
The Armenian (Miss A) had set my dragnet in motion. Her friend’s friend had a friend who knew a friend and that man had contacted Mr. X in Florida.
Mr. X said he too had applied for a passport and it had finally been sent to him, along with my driver’s license and birth certificate.
Turns out X was actually a medical doctor. He assured me that he had returned my documents, along with a full explanation, to Passport Canada.
His explanation was routinely translated by Foreign Affairs of Canada into Maori and was dispatched to Madagascar. To protect national security all original documents were shredded.
I emailed Dr. X the following with a copy to Person 000.
Dear Dr. X,
I have been in touch with my handler (Person 000) from Foreign Affairs. I am sending her a copy of this note so she will understand you have not been shredded. (Please stay away from wood chippers or I may never get my license and birth certificate back.)
Passport Canada has driven my wife insane.
(By the way, since you are a physician, could you teach me to perform lobotomies on close family members?)
Person 000 may want to know how I was able to track you down when all of Canada’s resources fell short. (Explain to her in Reformed Egyptian that “my agents” located you through a secret non-diplomatic channel, code name: G-o-o-g-l-e.)
Person 000 would be a fine replacement for the outgoing minister. And I bet she wouldn’t hook up with a hot chick who was married to a biker.
It is my opinion that Passport Canada should refund our passport fees in consideration of all of the trouble they have put us through.
Be careful in all intercourse with Passport Canada.
I fear I’m on a watch list because each time I cross the longest unguarded border in the world I am given a complete medical.
Soon after Person 000 emailed me:
Good Afternoon Mr. Summers,
Mrs. Summers can rest easy, we have your birth certificate and driver’s license. They are on their way to you.
Your prostate is fine.
I sent the following back to her.
Person 000 – IPS Cell B
Affaires étrangères Canada | Foreign Affairs Canada
I have returned the Man from Cairo’s canceled passport and citizenship document to you this very day.
Attached is a copy of the receipt. The original as you asked is in the courier pouch. You said I could use any courier I wished. You would pay for it all.
I chose a courier from Halliburton, a Mr. Diefenbaker, a former spy for the CIA. He will deliver my documents to you by hand.
I told him to spare no expense so he chartered a private jet. Later today his associate will give you a GPS bracelet so that my man can locate you upon landing. I have tried to keep the expenses under $20,000.
I am of course teasing — I’m really sending the package by motorcycle courier. Apparently high officials in Foreign Affairs have liaisons with bikers. Ha-ha. Still kidding.
Also here is a letter I wrote to the Honourable Diane Finley. Please have someone translate it into Madagascan, then dispatch same to Atlantis.
P.S. — don’t you think I’d make a dandy spy? My wife would like to have me out of the house more.
P.P.S. — if I can’t be a spy, could you help me secure a diplomatic passport? I know I could improve Canada’s image.
How things stand….
Passport Canada has Dr. X’s documents.
My letter to the minister has not been answered. It may not even be translated.
I do not have my birth certificate or driver’s license.
I may not have my fees and expenses reimbursed until after I am awarded a diplomatic passport.