Porn at the Border

Allow me to briefly set the scene.

It is Rodrigo’s first trip to California and my first trip back after selling the house. We are only traveling for a week, so that I can meet with my tax guy and show Rod around a little. We have arrived at Oakland International Airport and are in Customs and Immigration.

“Are you returning from vacation?” the Immigration official asks me.
“No, actually I’m on vacation. I’m a resident of Mexico but used to live in Oakland.”
“What is your occupation?”
“I’m retired.”
“You’re a little young to be retired.”
“Well, I bailed out of corporate America and couldn’t afford to retire in the U.S. so I moved to Mexico.”

About this time he writes a strange number on my customs form and sends me on.

Once at customs a nice official chats me up while he performs the most invasive search of my luggage that I have ever experienced. He even took the lining out of my suitcase; something that I didn’t even know was possible (Velcro! Go figure!). About this time I’m getting annoyed because Rod has already cleared and is waiting for me in the terminal. And the whole time the official is making pleasant small talk.

Then he opens my laptop and turns it on. “May I ask what you are doing?”
“Looking for contraband, like child pornography. Do you have any pornography on your laptop?”
“Yes.” I say indignantly, like doesn’t everyone?
“Do you know the ages?”
“I don’t have a clue, it is just stuff that my old roommate downloaded from the internet and I never bothered to take off.” At this point I’m getting really nervous. Some of the photos are pretty young. I even have a folder entitled “Jail” because a few of the photos look questionable when it comes to age.
“I think we need to take this offline,” he says and pulls me into a private room with two other uniformed officials.

My heart is in my throat. Rodrigo is outside without any phone numbers or address of the people we are staying with, no credit card, nothing. I’m having visions of being hauled off to jail without being allowed to speak with him, all because I was too lazy to delete some old photos. I also feel violated. Like my privacy is being invaded.

I’m sitting in a small room while three guys in uniform are paging down through my porn. Finally one of them says, “I don’t see anything here that is a problem.” And the other two agree almost too quickly, like “Don’t make us look at any more of this!”

Then they all shake my hand and explain that they are sorry for inconveniencing me. “Please understand that we are not judging you, we are just doing our job. You do understand what we are looking for?”
“The really sick stuff I guess.”
“Exactly. Thank you so much for your cooperation. You can go now.”

My head was spinning as I pulled my luggage together and walked to freedom. Then it occurred to me and I pass this on as a travel tip:

Don’t travel to the U.S. with pornography on your laptop, in the same week that the press secretary for Homeland Security has just been charged on multiple counts for attempting to seduce a minor over the internet.

And be assured I’ve been doing some serious editing. I also think that I will not use the word “retired” anymore and I won’t make it evident that I’m traveling with a handsome Mexican some years younger than me. Talk about setting myself up!