Some people are so deep in their own worlds they are oblivious to the
world around them. My previ
ous
rant may not really convey the problem in it’s full colors, it might
even be pointed to as evidence that I am too high-strung for this job.
Perhaps this will shed some light on how deep the problem really
is:

Bang. Bang. Bang. “WelcomehomeNEXT!” It’s another day on the US
Citizen/Returning Residents end of The
Line at SFO. Once I’ve decided (or determined beyond a reasonable
doubt) that someone is a US citizen (“USC”) I have no legal authority, so
it’s a really rapid fire procession of passenger processing. As far as I’m
concerned, Americans are like ducks: If it looks like an American, walks
like an American and sounds like an American, it’s probably an American. I
do check the documents, but that’s really more habit than anything else.

Someone on high has decided that Americans can return home with a driver’s
license and a birth certificate, and that’s enough. Given the piss poor
quality of US birth certificates (from a security perspective) and the
utter incompetence of DMVs to determine citizenship, I think that’s nuts.
As usual, that’s above my pay grade. You can put your expired American
passport through the spin cycle, sit on it across southeast asia, drop it
in the rain and drive over it for three days (to combine a few common
causes of mutilated passports), and I’ll probably STILL let you back into
the U.S. I may give you a look to convey how inappropriate you passport
is, make fun of you for laundering passports instead of money or inform
you that any self-respecting country would deport you upon arrival. “Can I
just replace the photo in my passport with a newer one? It’s split wide
enough.” No. You may NOT replace the photo in your passport. We DEPORT
people for that, you twit! You’re supposed to get a new passport. (sigh) I
may even bring a supervisor over to yell at you and chase you out of the
inspections area, but I’ll still let you in. Why? Because you look like an
American, walk like an American and sound like an American. Congress
expects no less. (And I DON’T wanna hear any bitching about “profiling”,
yaear?)

Anyways, it’s a Mexicana flight loaded with lawful permanent residents
(aka LPRs pronounced “Lah-PeRs”, aka green card holders) returning from
family visits and USCs returning from Cancun (or something). Bang. Bang.
Bang. Until I see Homeboy waiting at the line.

Buddy’s wearing a cowboy hat and a tan leather jacket, typical “cowboy
attire”. He’s got Bling-Bling action, if you know what I mean: big
gold-colored rings and bracelets and a thick gold chain around his neck
with a medallion at the bottom. A big, six inch in diameter gold colored
medallion of a pot leaf.

Now, come ON. I don’t care what you do at home, on your own time, behind
closed doors or in your back yard. But do you have to walk up to me, under
surveillance, in an area called the Federal Inspection Area with a virtual
billboard announcing marijuana use? If you’re a USC you’re going to get
your bags tossed around by Customs. If you’re not a USC, you’re going to
get your bags tossed around by Customs AND Immigration.

Just ‘cause buddy’s got a green card doesn’t mean he’s not at risk. Heck.
We can bounce him out of the country if he’s been arrested twice with any
drugs – no conviction required! Wait, I said “arrested”. You can just
admit to it, that’s good enough. Right or wrong, it’s the law, and I’ve
seen a number of guys get sent off to the judge for just that.

So I mark his customs declaration for double inspection (in case the guys
in secondary don’t feel like doing an interrogation this early in the day)
and send him on his way. The next passenger steps up and I send her back
behind the line to consider what I’m going to enter as the reason for
referring him.

I briefly consider a simple “Duh!” because anyone who sees him will know
why he was referred. I think better of it and write in possible grounds of
removablity (drug user) and offer a suspicion of drug trafficking.

The doc checker (see “previ
ous
rant“) later told me he did a double-take when he saw Homeboy. He said
he was going to refer him if I hadn’t.

Well, duh.