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Personally, that's a mild encounter with them. Once coming through they dragged me off, showed me my luggage and demanded I give up where I was hiding the drugs. No amount of assuring them that they were clearly morons would convince them I was not flying with drugs. They had my luggage and proceeded to tear it apart in front of me, throwing stuff everywhere, the whole time assuring me they would find the drugs. Half an hour later, my clothes all over the floor, the non-existent drugs not found, they told me I had five minutes to get my luggage back together and leave the room as they needed it for the next poor bastard. I pretty much told them to go fuck themselves, and it would take however long it would take to fold all my clothes and get them back in the luggage and that if they were in a hurry, they could help me fold the clothes. Needless to say they weren't in *that* much of a hurry. By the time I got to the train station I had literally 30 seconds before my train left. That was fun.
Ever since then, I've coated one pocket of my carry-on backpack in jam and dirt, so that when these bastards give me trouble, they'll end up with jammy, dirty hands. As they *always* start searching with the backpack it's a good deterrent. The theory was that they would be reluctant to search anything else after finding that surprise. My theory was correct and I've jammed two of the bastards so far.
You got off easy!
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