Reentering U.S.A.;kfj
The line we are in has a lady border patrol agent and she's all business. Our line was the slowest! She's searching, she's asking questions, she pulling peeps to the side of the road for further inspection. Here's our experience in passing through the border both ways (entering U.S. and/or entering Canada). And let me add, our new passports make passage a world easier.
One time no one was even in the kiosk. Another time they simply waved us through. We've had them ask a few questions, then wave us through. Other times they ask a ton of questions, then wave us through. Sometimes they search a little. Sometimes they search a lot. Once they asked me to go in back and show them the food, especially in the fridge. (They don't let beef through.) Once they instructed my husband and me to wait outside on a concrete bench while they searched the inside of the truck and then the inside of the trailer for about ten minutes. We weren't asked inside. I took a couple photos of them working and they told me to delete them. (These were two young women border patrol employees.) They were nice. I think they have an idea of whose a harmless ignant versus who has deceit on their mind.
On this day a young lady agent with short cropped hair asks a few questions of my husband then asks me to step out and show her the inside of the trailer. I took her straight to the fridge since I know now that's a major thing they look for for regular tourists like us. I was a little nervous and the road was awful so everything tumbled out of the fridge. All of my husband's beer in glass bottles, that is. So she commented that it looked like we really were having a good time and I was quite distracted but replied yes. (I figured not much point to me also explaining it's all my husband's beer, not mine, and I don't even like beer. My mind is fast forwarding because I want to be completely honest with law enforcement and I think if I say I don't drink beer then in all honesty I ought to say I don't drink beer, but I do like a shot of whiskey now and then. To my credit I don't blab out all this totally superflous information.) She helped me pick up the beer and asked which food is from Canada, meat that is, because it's not allowed across. I don't do the food shopping so I'm not really sure and I pick a few things like weiners and hamburger (our dinner for that night, in fact). I open the other cupboard and show her the wine and whiskey and she's says fine with that. Really they're concerned with people taking booze across in huge quantity for resale which is illegal.
From the freezer, she took some meat from there. I have no idea what it was but it's been in there since like spring of 2005, so no great loss. She saw our orange juice pop container (with cute animals on the stick to make fun home-made pops) and commented about how she has two daughters and they like those a lot too.
So we walk outside and she told me to give her the illegal meats and I handed them over and told her thanks. Don't know why I said thanks for taking our food. It's a lifetime affliction of mine - saying thanks too much. I've even said thanks when people have been rude to me. Probably someone could punch me in the nose and I would say thanks. She didn't say anything. We got round to the truck and I hopped in and he said good-bye and have a nice trip.
We dreaded her line because she was so thorough and we watched about ten cars go by in the other line before it was even our turn. But I'm sure she congratulated herself on catching the meat. And I don't mind a bit. We want thorough border patrol agents.
I got back in the car and told my husband I had to hand over dinner as illegal contraband. He said, "What'd ja do that for?" Apparently he purchased it at the supermarket in Minnesota the day before. Little did I know. But why did I feel so guilty then? Because I'm me! I felt I had to give her something. I'm such a case.
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