My ex and I had a weekend home in Ensenada, Mexico, and we used to take our motorhome down there every six weeks or so to do some deep-sea fishing. Coming home one weekend, the US border crossing guard looked long and hard at my ex (who was -probably still is - Hispanic) in his grubby fishing attire and asked how he could possibly afford that motorhome. Ex took great offense but kept his cool - and told him that we pick up cans on the side of the highway. I laughed all the way back to LA, imagining a bunch of border crossing guards quitting their jobs to pick up cans for a living
