I’m going to rat out an unnamed immigration officer, who managed to tick me off just moments after my wife and I returned from Israel this past weekend.

We arrived at Newark’s international airport early Sunday after a 12-hour flight from Tel Aviv. We trudged from the gate to the passport control section of the airport, right along with hundreds of other passengers who had gotten off our flight — and probably one or two others at the same time.

We stood in line and waited, and waited, and waited.

Finally, we decided to move to a station where the immigration officer was processing returning Americans more rapidly.

No sooner had we gotten to the new line, then the officer barked at us: “I’m closing the line after these people in front of you. Go somewhere else.”

He shot me an icy stare. I shot one back.

We moved to another line, got our passports stamped and we moved on to baggage claim, where we went through customs. Incidentally, the young man handling our luggage was just as efficient as the snarky immigration dude, but a whole lot friendlier.

Why do I mention this?

Well, we had been treated exceptionally well by our Israeli hosts. I had been away for five weeks. My wife joined me for the final week for a little sightseeing, mostly in Jerusalem. We had just flown a dozen hours on an airplane. I had next to zero sleep.

And then some bozo in a uniform treated us badly.

The U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service needs to teach its employees some manners. This clown seemed to have forgotten that he works for us, not the other way around.