When on your last vacation in San Diego, you take the train to the ugly little town of Tiajuana, it wasn't an ugly little town 30 yrs ago.
Just to get some smokes from the island down south. Then as you are leaving with 20 cigars stuck in all your pockets, you are stopped at customs and ask if you anything to claim. Sweating uncontrolably you announce no ma'am. She gives you the once over and waves you on through. Then if that wasn't bad enough you get no more than 25 feet from the custom lady, and your wife of 30 yrs, proclaims to the world, I can't believe you just carried those cigars back to U.S. soil.
But I am back home in Indiana, and have a few of those sticks left. If I ever do that again the wife will not know about it.