I've always found it helps to have a lot of luggage and look harried, like you're going to start crying at any moment...

In 1998, arriving BRU-LHR-SFO, when he saw The Netherlands on my form, he asked, "You're not bringing back anything you're not supposed to, are you?"

I must have been really tired, cause for a moment I genuinely didn't have a clue. And, I was really tired...

I got it... "Drugs! You mean drugs! No, I don't have any drugs." I blurted out. I should add that I have the sort of voice that carries, and without seeming to be screaming, I'm sure everyone in the customs hall heard me.

He seemed startled, handed me my passport, and said, "Have a nice day. Welcome home." (I love it when they say that.)

BTW, what could be more stupid than smuggling drugs. But, um, why would anyone smuggle pot to San Francisco?

I wonder, how does the "subject to the jurisdiction" of the US, thingy affect dual nationals? I mean like buying cuban cigars or traveling to Cuba?