I've been profiled all my life. When my hair was super black, I often wore a beard (as opposed to dating one). Had my life threatened several times during the Iran hostage crisis, so I lost it.
The week of 9/11 (still way less gray then), I took a newspaper front page with the pictures of all 19 hijackers on it. I photoshopped myself into position # 13, listed my name as Miluud BadBob, posted it (Newspaper size) on my wall at work (I had almost that same office as Rob Schneider did for his "Rick-ster" Jim-man" skits). Everyone looked at it and not one person noticed.
Living on the border, I'd be driving back with friends and ask if they ever get stopped. "Nah, never." "Well, that's 'cause you weren't with me."
BAM! We get asked to pull aside.
In 1989, after having our stuff delivered to our "new" AZ ranch, we took the month's worth of dogfood cans out of the moving van, threw them in the trunk of our rental car, then headed back to Houston where we had left our 4 beasts with a friend (a really GOOD friend! There was a horror story for each of the 7 days he had 'em), when we got stopped at an INS checkpoint.
We had Mass. ID's, three days worth of clothes in only a backback each. "Please pull over there, sir, and exit the car."
Then we saw the dog coming. Holy Crap! We look guilty (scared, really) as shit, our car is empty, and we got 90 cans of dogfood in the trunk. No doghair in the rental car, no leash, not one sign of a dog. Asked to stand far away from the vehicle,
Rich whispers, "I hope you got your Swiss army knife with you, 'cause we're gonna be on our asses on this 160 degree pavement opening every last one of those f'n cans." Evidently, it wasn't JackieBoys' brand of choice.
