Saturday, August 16, 2014

Person of Intense Interest

I know I'm bad ass dangerous looking to our Customs Service, and must give off pheromones that reek of the potential for cool, controlled violence that will clear a room in a flurry of kicks, punches, and flips; but now they are searching me leaving the United States?

I've had my lengthy encounters with the US Customs Service in the past while returning home. I've been forced to come to the conclusion that I look dangerous.

I was in and out of Canada a few times this summer, which gave them more shots at me.

On my last trip in to Canada this summer, I had an exit interview with Customs that exuded all the warmth of a Stasi proctology examination. That's right, US Customs wanted a closer look as I left.

Seriously, a drug-sniffing dog and a bag search? And then they fingerprinted me and photographed me. For identification purposes, they said. Apparently my US-issued passport wasn't trusted enough, nor was my friggin' driver's license.

And remember, this was by US Customs before being allowed to leave the United States.

Mind you, it wasn't just me. Yet while others seemed to get parts of the special treatment, I seemed to get all of it. Well, not all--third country nationals (neither American nor Canadian) had paperwork to fill out.

Yet tens of thousands of minors manage to get in to the United States recently. No doubt, since half of the border patrol was fingering through my unmentionables or typing away about something at length in regards to me.

But hey, still no strip search--or worse. So who am I to complain?