We’ve all been there. Shifting from foot to foot in the customs line at Logan, tired from a long trip, madly trying to fill out the declaration form while hauling bags we regret having taken, and still facing Boston traffic on the way home.

I came from Toronto recently, headed for customs, and turning the corner, saw at least 200 people slogging along in snaky lines. I breezed by them all and within minutes was out the door.