Border Crossing, North American Style

I live near a Canadian border. I have probably crossed this particular border 30 times in my life, and never had to stay more than five minutes with the formalities. However, now I am a long-haired hippie type, which leads to this exchange with a Canadianer Immigration 'official.'

Can: Why are you coming to Canada?
Me: To go hiking in Waterton
Can: Why do you want to do that?
Me: Because it's beautiful (dumbass thought, not voiced)
Can: Have you ever been to Canada?
Me: Yes many times.
Can: When was the last time?
Me: Two years ago.
Ever been convicted of a felony?
Me: No.
Ever been to our immigration office?
Me: No.
I think you better check them out. Park your car, go upstairs, second door on the right.
Me: Yes sir.

I then proceeded to park my car and go upstairs. Upon my arrival, the immigration official tells me to sit on the bench (not the group W one, just an ordinary one). I tell him I have been sitting for three hours and don't really care to sit, I can stand in wait of my fate.

Official: Son, you do what I tell you to do.
Me: Sir, really my legs are tired of sitting, I need to stand (major asshole thought, not voiced)
Official: Have it your way.

One HOUR later:
Official: Next (nobody has been in here the whole time I have been waiting -only might have been a more appropriate word)
Official: You ever been convicted of a felony?
Me: No sir (no sweat lodges in my background)
Official: Ever been to court?
Me: Once for running a red light and not paying my fine on time.
When was that?
Me: About fifteen years ago I guess.
Ever been fingerprinted?
Me: No sir.
Ever been to jail?
Me: No sir.
Ever smoked marijuana?
Me: (agape) Excuse me?
You heard me boy, you do drugs?
Me: No sir.
You have any on you?
Me: No sir.
Let me see your wallet.

I proceeded to give him my wallet. As he searched through it, I asked what he was looking for and he said LSD. Talk about crazy, after he finally gave me the long 'I know you are up to something but I can't prove it so I guess I will have to go against my better judgement and let you into our fine country' look, he stamped my paper and told me to go to customs, where they proceeded to inspect my car (standard operating procedure these days). Two hours to cross into Canadia. not quite my records of four days into Niger and three days in the Sudan, but a little on the ridiculous side. I would report on my beautiful hiking in Waterton (because it was), but Kevlar has already made people jealous enough with photos from home. The Americans let me pass through without so much as a nod on my way back.