A friend told me a disturbing story the other day.

“I snuck into America last week. Yup. Got off a plane from the Caribbean and snuck past the immigration guys at JFK. Those are the officers with pistols on their hips. They make sure nobody gets in without proper identification. Right.

“I even got past the sniffer dog. He checks out the luggage for food. You are not supposed to bring in any food. He works for the Agriculture Department, protecting us from destructive bugs that live in food.

“Here is what happened with immigration. I went through the line and had my passport checked. And I proceeded past the barriers to the next room to collect my luggage.

“Ah, but there was no men’s room there. A baggage handler told me to go back into the immigration area to use the one that is there. So I did. In both directions I skirted all the barriers and the guys with guns. They didn’t notice me. They were dealing with a thousand people lined up from various flights. Nobody stopped me. Nobody noticed.

“I could have just as easily come from the plane, stepped into the men’s room, exited, and walked past the officers.

“Back in the baggage area the sniffer dog poked his nose round my carry on. Then he trotted to the next bag. In my bag was a sandwich I bought in the Caribbean but never got to eat on the plane.”