"You're going to need to go inside."

Apparently the U.S. doesn't want me either.  Another border crossing, another visit with the immigration officials.  This time the woman in the booth called over a supervisor who asked for my car keys and escorted me inside.  I had to wait 20 minutes and then was asked one question: "What's your mother's maiden name?" That was it, then they let me go.  Weird.

I'm never going to have a career as a smuggler.