I’ve got a problem. So I’m rolling through the airport, already pissed I’ve got to roll through that jacked up TSA security take off your shoes, take off your belt, take off your jacket, your watch, your cell phone, take out your laptop, take out your one plastic bag of toothpaste, and whatever the hell else you need, get half butt naked, but don’t forget to carry your ticket in your pocket, as if you can remember that once you’ve done that laundry list of tasks above. And that is if we are on a Code Orange, if we go back up to Code Red I’m going to be expecting full on cavity searches like I’m a drug mule.
Fine, I get it. Here’s my problem, what’s up with that damn “puffer” machine down on the end, and why does every security guard always want to send you down there. “Lane 6 is open! Move on down to Lane 6!” First of all, Lane 6 isn’t open either. The line is just as long as all the rest, I just have to go through that BS machine before I walk through the metal detector. I know, I know the TSA ladies want to check for Little Rock.
Not the gun. I’m talking about the other Lil Rock, the anaconda, the baby maker. I might make a security guard pass out if she checks me in the middle of her work day. Then, after they make you wait in that long ass line, take half the stuff out of your bag and remove half your clothing they give you about 15 seconds to grab your shit and no where to reassemble yourself. So you end up doing a shoeless shuffle with your hands full looking like a complete jackass until you can put yourself back together.
Seriously though, do they get some kind of bonus money for making people go through there? Is it some kind of horrible joke? Do the TSA guards all get together at the end of the night to watch the video tape of peoples faces as the puffer hits them like some twisted, non-sexual version of Beautiful Agony?
I’m not even close to dumb enough to roll through security strapped. Check out this dude.
Now you know you aren’t making it through security like that. Here’s the other thing, not that you’d make it through the metal detector with all that firepower strapped to your body, but if you were going to give it a shot…you wouldn’t go through the damn puffer machine. The thing is supposed to check for explosives. If I’ve got a bomb, I’m not going through it. You can’t give people a choice, that thing is nothing but a glorified toy. Ol’ Otis could’ve done better than that.
I’m gettin’ ready ta take ya down bwoy, gettin’ ready ta take ya down.