Crossing the US/Canadian border recently, the following conversation ensued. I highly recommend against the types of responses I gave, although they were given in all earnestness.
Guard: Do you have any weapons in the vehicle?
RR: [looks from guard to husband]
Guard: Why are you looking at him?
RR: Uh, because I’m not in charge of that.
Guard (incredulous): “Not in charge of THAT??”
RR: Uh, well, what I mean is, I don’t have any…I never…I…
Husband (interrupting, thank God): We have no weapons in this car.
Guard [now looking at Husband]: Do you have any guns in the vehicle?
Husband (repeats): No.
Guard: Do you own guns where you come from? (As if we are from the “awful killing place.”)
RR: [stomach now in throat…looks from Husband to Guard]
Guard: When was the last time you had guns in this vehicle?
RR: [looks stupidly from Guard to Husband]
Guard: Is there any chance we’d find a round or a holster in there?
RR: [madly trying to picture every crevice of the car, just in case…a holster???]
RR: [by this time fully expecting to be pulled over and every bit of our carefully packed provisions searched.]
Guard (looking irritatedly at the moron driving the car [aka RR]: Ok, move on.
WELCOME TO CANADA