Last winter I had to cross the US border on a business trip, I got near the border, realized I had a joint, and instead of being a responsible adult and throwing it out the window, I pull into a park and wander around for a 1/2 hour, I was gonna drive around for an hour and come down a bit. 
The second street I turned down was the bridge to cross the border, I started flipping out, and once I saw the sign that said no U-turns I pretty much lost it. Pulled out my documents and passport, everything seemed alright. Then guy border agent asked me if I had been drinking or doing drugs, I tell him no, and he starts typing an essay into his computer. Buddy tells me to go pull up to customs because "we have some questions to ask you." He points at the place and I park and get out.
I walk into the place and see 12 counters each 1 numbered, I tell the guy at the counter #1 who I am, and I go sit down. I get called up to counter #5 and he asks me some questions, and I go sit back down. I get called up to counter #11, and answer his questions and sit back down. I see a bunch of guys behind the counters talking, looking back at me, talking and then they disperse. At this point about an hour has gone by and I'm started get scared, but wasn't too worried.
Another half hour goes by, and I hear "Mr. Jordan please approach counter #13." I was kind of confused I counted 12 counters when I walked in, so I stood up and walk to counter 12 like an idiot, there was some guy staring me down so I look away, and see a door into a much smaller, empty room. I walk in there's only 3 counters in this room. I walk up to the desk and buddy standing there has my passport and a letter sitting in front of him, he asks me some of the same questions and tells me to sit back down.
At this point I'm thinking I'm free and clear, and I'll be out this place in about 10 minutes. I start to relax and want a cigarette, I look around and see a no smoking sign, so to kill the time I decide to pull out a king size paper and my rolling tobacco and started rolling myself a cigarette. Right before I wet the paper, I look up and see a guy standing there. I lean back a bit and he pulls a latex glove out of his pocket and snaps it onto his hand. He starts walking towards me, a straight look on his face and real confident, his hand raised like he was gonna turn off a light switch. My jaw hit the floor, and I let out a little "Oh fuck..". Everything just gets real quiet. Buddy is still walking towards me real slow, and I start tripping, hard. I thought "This is it, I'm gonna lose my ass cherry." It was all I could do, to stop from crying. He gets closer to me and every step he takes is slower than the last. He walks in front of me and turns a bit looks me dead straight in the eyes, and pulls the glove past his wrist. He didn't say a word, and he bent over and reached for the garbadge pail, and changed the bags. 
He walked away as quick as he bent over, probably trying to supress his laughter. I hear somebody burst out laughing in another room, I look through the glass wall, into the room where I initially came from, and there's probably 10 people plus all the guards just laughing their asses off.
Moral of the story: don't smoke weed or hash before you cross the border.