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Flying Isn’t What it Used to Be

March 15, 2011

I just took my first flight in 10 years. 

I have fond memories of having relatives meet me at the gate or spending our last moments together until they got on the plane.  I remember being 4 years old and waving goodbye to my dad as I watched him leave.  During a long layover, sometimes I would even meet friends for lunch at the airport.

I miss those moments.  It hurts even more to see what everyone has to go through at security checkpoints.  I guess I was one of the lucky ones because I only had to go through the metal detector both ways, but one lady I met said every time she goes through the body scanner, her left thigh looks suspicious and she gets a pat down anyway. 

I made a lot of jokes before I left, but I really was dreading going through the experience.  I’m not comfortable displaying my body for a nameless, faceless person.  Of course, I’m not comfortable with a pat down either, but having had four children and being even more thorougly examined, I decided I was more comfortable with a woman patting me down.  Couldn’t be any worse than my yearly pap smear and breast exam.

One of my friends refuses to go through the scanner, but she is very uncomfortable getting a pat down from a woman.  She said you can’t request for someone of the opposite sex to do it, but she told me anyway, “See if you can get a man to do it.  Also, ask if you can choose the man or maybe even another passenger.”  I needed the laugh.  I told her, “That could be their new slogan!  TSA:  We let you choose your own groper.”

I cursed the terrorists all through security, but did smile a little bit when I thought about any of them getting the same treatment.  I was especially annoyed at the shoe bomber because I ended up wearing my least comfortable shoes that slip on and off easily.

I wish evil things upon you, Shoe Bomber.

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