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TSA – A Love Story

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My day began just as hundreds of days before it, and like hundreds of days after it, but “that” day proved to be one of those most intimate, and breathtaking exchanges that occur perhaps once-in-a-life-time, in a momentary encounter with another human being (unless you happen to be a frequent flyer).
Thinking back, I must have had a premonition of this special moment, as all morning, as I showered, brushed my teeth, put on my underwear, then my shirt, then my pants ( I put on my shirt first, so it’s easy to tuck it into my pants), and then my socks (odd that I put on my socks last, isn’t it?), I felt apprehensive nervousness about the day about to unfold in front of me.
As my taxi made it’s way to the airport that day, I really had no idea what special moment would come my way– as I had decided on route, that I’m really not a psychic, and all the apprehensive nervousness was just a result of the fact that I have an irrational fear of flying.

At the check in counter, I thought I’d noticed a knowing glance from the counter agent, when she asked if I had packed my bags myself, and if a stranger had asked me to carry anything onto the airplane for them. But in my mind I wrote off the signal as being due to my diagnosis as a paranoid hypochondriac.

Little did I know, the three S’s (SSS) that the computer had generated, and placed on my boarding pass (designating me for enhanced security) would turn into an enhanced encounter that one could only dream of in their dreams, and for a moment I thought about the redundancy of that sentence.

I approached the security area, just as I had the other time I had been forced to fly (after being extradited from the Netherlands to the United States), and everything seemed so normal. I began to feel better about the safety of flying, as I noted all the people in uniform, but then I realized they were just TSA agents, and I began to get nervous again.

The TSA agent must have noted the panic setting in on my face, because they looked at me, and said “walk this way”. I tried, but I couldn’t quite imitate the limping on one foot, and dragging the other walk he had. I was asked to take off my shoes and my belt, and put my bag on the table for inspection. I thought I could save some time in the process, so I just laid on the table, but my offer of assisting in the speed of the process was quickly rejected.

Then as I passed through the metal detector, and all the bells and whistles sang out warning signs, I realized I forgot about the shrapnel in my body, that was a result of my participation in the invasion of Panama, which had led me to flee to the Netherlands.

It was then that I saw him! He looked directly into my eyes, and my eyes were drawn directly to his. As he looked up and down the length of my body it was if he had known me forever. It seemed that this seemingly chance encounter must have been my destiny waiting for me to catch up to it.

His touch was so gentle. As his hands slid under my armpits and ever so slowly along my arms I began to get goose bumps. He then moved those large, even massive, hands towards my torso my breathing became deeper. My nipples hardened as those hands slid by them ever so gently.

I tried to make eye contact as those massive, even gigantic hands, moved down the outside of my pant leg, and I thought to myself, take them off already – I’m ready. Then, as he directed his attention to my inseams, I looked down, and knew everything was going to be alright, because I saw his blue latex gloves. He was not only gentle, he was safe and wouldn’t be giving me any new diseases.

Then, I heard a whiny high pitched voice, say “Thank You, you’re done”. I had really expected a low brooding voice to end this chance encounter of such a wonderful, warm and intimate exchange between two human beings, but as I walked on, and glanced back at Mr. Whiny voice, I saw he wasn’t even being faithful long enough for me to get out of view.

Yet I knew, in spite of all that, he would remember me and our encounter, as I would him. Well, not quite probably.

I’ll remember him as the guy in the fake uniform, with the high pitched whiny female-like voice, with hands six times too big for his body, and he’ll remember me as the nut job who climbed up on the table to lay down to go through the X-ray machine.

It might be as close as he’ll ever come to true love though. – A View From the Kuki Side of Cruising –

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Comment from Kenneth Eden
Time December 22, 2010 at 7:13 am

I could not let this one pass without a comment………

Did you have a rubber cover for the plane seat?

Comment from Kenneth Eden
Time December 22, 2010 at 11:11 am

post script

My above comment is given in pure jest. I enjoyed your commentary.

Happy Holidays

Comment from Bob
Time December 23, 2010 at 6:37 am

I’m thinking there should be some Marvin Gaye in the background

Comment from Paul Motter
Time December 23, 2010 at 10:24 am

LOL – is this really a true story? 😉

They should have Marvin Gaye, and some lit candles and maybe a bearskin rug. Oh, and make sure the TSA guys wear plenty of Old Spice.

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