To the dirty hippie that re-entered Canada with me over the long weekend.

Did you enjoy Bumbershoot? Awesome, dude. I’m glad, really I am!

One thing I was curious about though:

You’ve been through this whole “border crossing” thing before, right? You know what to expect?

Why did this happen?

Why were all your fellow travellers on the Greyhound Peasant Wagon obliged to wait patiently for nearly three-quarters of an hour while the nice border agents went through you and your girlfriend’s belongings (and likely your persons) with the highest level of scrutiny they could possibly muster?

Maybe it was because you chose to wear a t-shirt that declared, unambiguously, that you were anACID-HEAD

Dude, I am not judgemental about your lifestyle choices. (Much.) I mean, I get it. Me, I don’t have anything against LSD by a long shot. I also don’t think prohibition against psychedelic substances is a sensible policy. But that’s neither here nor there.

I know your momma told you to “be true to yourself.” That’s cool.

But when the schedules of 50+ other people depend on it, WEAR A DIFFERENT FUCKING SHIRT WHEN YOU GO THROUGH CUSTOMS, YOU MORON. It’s not that hard.

Besides which, it stank. Like dirty hippie. Anxious dirty hippie, when you came back. That’s the worst kind.

Did the nice border agents hold up me or my companions when I took actual LSD across the border, a statute of limitations ago? No! Why? Because I made the most rudimentary of efforts to disguise the fact that I was I GIANT FUCKING HEAD, and didn’t wear an article of clothing that basically required a butt-probe.

Did I mention you stink? Your fecking body odour has psychedelic properties.


You’d think it would dawn on border patrol that the drug smugglers are the ones who don’t look like hippies, just like terrorists are not going to be wearing religious hats, flowing robes, or long beards.

ETA: Not that the hippie shouldn’t have known that this isn’t yet how border patrol thinks, and to dress like a square.

So where did he live, so we can go about bottling his hippiesweat and reselling it to his friends. Nothing says profit like hippies.

When I was a teenager I came back from Grand Cayman on a charter flight. Customs picked out me and the other teenager and went through all our stuff with a fine tooth comb. One of the people with us – a pro photographer who flew all over the world – said that smugglers would put stuff in the luggage of the ones the looked most “innocent”.

True, but in fairness, anyone dumb enough to wear that shirt through customs is dumb enough to do it while carrying.

Not to try and one-up, but our packed Greyhound was held up for three hours crossing back into the States from Quebec because a citizen of Jamaica had with her a bottle of home made ginger beer in her luggage. They went through all her things, which consisted mainly of fabric and needles and thread (she was a seamstress) and sent the ginger beer off for testing on the basis that it might have been liquid ecstasy. WTF? 'Cause so many people carry that stuff around in 2 quart jars.

Ha, and just before we actually made it to NYC, the driver turned around and went back to Albany without saying a word. We found out on the way back he’d left his watch in the Albany station’s restroom.

Maybe he took it off to check his stash of drugs hidden in the watch.

I honestly think that Greyhound and customs work together to make at least one passing bus a day absolutely miserable.

He was PROFILED!! Thats what you should be pissed about! :stuck_out_tongue:

You are totally harshing his mellow. You and those fascist border patrols.

The OP just makes me want to let my freak flag fly, man.

Shouldn’t the OP have concluded with “Screw you guys, I’m going home”?

Just be happy that he didn’t wear his “I have XDR TB” t-shirt.

Good to know that “stupid knows no borders”, eh?