It was the shortest airport security line I had ever seen. That should have been my clue that something was amiss.
There have been a few airline incidents lately where passengers, or in some case, potential passengers, have been treated less-than-stellar. With that in mind, I will share a fun anecdote from a recent flight of mine.
I was going through security, minding my own business when something truly unexpected happened. After setting off the nuclear-radiation, full-body molecular scan sensor, I was herded over to a giant man who growled something indistinguishable.
Suddenly a lady appeared and groped my crotchal area noting that my pants were “saggy.”
“Well, you took my belt,” I offered helpfully.
She asked if I wanted to go someplace private. I figured the genital exam would go much faster, with fewer liberties taken, if I allowed them to perform it in the middle of the concourse. It reminded me of my last trip to Vegas – minus the cocktails.
By the time my clothing and personal effects were returned to me in plastic bins, I wandered unsatisfied to a bar for two shots of Patron (not enough). I also ate nachos and my wife and I posed with matching sweatshirts in front of a Minnesota Twins sign for an impromptu selfie. A girl striding by this red carpet experience took pity on our contortionist routine as we struggled for the perfect shot and offered to snap our picture.
Some time after that we boarded a plane.
Oh, and TSA stands for Tequila Somewhere Ahead. Just remember that.
Tequila Tuesdays: I’ll tell you a story, often involving tequila. You can drink.
P.P.S – I usually post stuff European time because they get up earlier. Go figure! LOL 🙂