About 8 years ago I was flying home from a two-week trip to Finland and Germany. I was selected for the "extra searches" when I got back to Vancouver International.
At the time, I had a large full beard, hair down to my thighs, an old trenchcoat, and a big floppy black hat covered in pins. So no real surprise that they picked me for extra searches.
I had been in Finland to finalize my divorce and in Germany to play in a memorial concert for my friend who had recently died of cancer. I also do not fly well, so I had taken every free Scotch offered to me on the flight back--which was quite a few, since I was flying on KLM.
Anyway, the customs agent was a pleasant young fellow. I was exhausted, hammered, and weaving noticeably.
The conversation was interesting.
Agent: "So sir, why were you in Finland?"
Me: "Um. . .personal reasons."
Agent: "I'm sorry sir, I really have to ask you to answer my questions fully."
Me: "sigh. . .OK, I was getting divorced."
Agent: "Oh man, I'm sorry."
Me: "It's OK."
Agent: "And why were you in Germany?"
Me: "Uh. . .personal reasons."
Agent: "Please sir, just answer the questions."
Me: "I was playing a memorial concert for a friend I used to play in a band with. He died of cancer."
Agent (by this time looking quite sad): "Oh jeez. Look, I'm really sorry about all this."
Then we had to scan my suitcase, which was broken, overfilled, and tied together with nylon rope. There were three opaque objects about 30cm long and 10-12cm wide. So the agent apologized again and we opened the suitcase. Turned out that the objects were wrapped gifts from my grandmother-in-law to my Mom.
Agent: "Did you wrap these?"
Me: "No."
Agent: "Do you know what they are?"
Me: "No."
Oh dear. Luckily they turned out to be leaded glass candleholders.
On with the interview:
Agent: "OK, just a few more questions. Do you ever use recreational drugs?"
Me (after a blank stare for a while, then a bit of a giggling fit): "Look at me, man. What do *you* think?"
Luckily, he laughed and offered to help me tie my suitcase back together.
Sometimes you just get lucky and get the right agent, I suppose.
Torben