I recently tried to re-enter the US at the Canadian border, and was confronted by the smarmiest border guard. He studied my passport, looked at me, and asked, "What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a writer," I said.
He looked at me doubtfully, "Does that pay the bills?"
Who the hell does this guy think he is? He's a glorified tollbooth worker! It was like I was being inspected by my dad. This is how it should have gone instead:
"What do you do for a living?"
"I am also a border guard."
"Where? I don't have any record of that."
"Between New York and New Jersey. Its the same thing as what you do. People pull up, I tell them they can come in, but they can't bring their eight dollars in with them."