That’s been my experience, too.
That was juarez thirty years ago....there was literally
no place to turn off once you approached the border.
Coming back we had to turn out everything in the truck,
while guys with mirrors checked underneath.
I was rather straight looking but my friends, well,
Michael had a red afro about the size of a small bush,
and Rowe was a folkie singer who dressed all in black.
Ah the good old days.