Sometimes we bring it on ourselves. I routed a long flight through Houston, where with a 12 hour layover, I met friends and got roaring drunk. Late at night I am in Calgary.
Drunk, no sleep for 36 hours, several ****hole countries on the passport and I stank and looked like garbage.
Things were not going well and I had difficulties answering his questions. Then he asked if I had ever been finger printed, and I told the truth: "sure, lotta times, that is how they know I am me". He laughed and asked how I was going to get to my hotel, I pulled out the handy dandy pocket notebook and read the name of the limo service. He said "Welcome to Canada" and laughed again. I wounder why? Dear God I was the ugly American.