>> Monday, November 22, 2010
Personally I’d rather be groped then have my plane plummet into the Columbia River in a fiery ball of twisted metal, but that’s just me and you know what opinions are like.
This all made me think about those poor TSA folks who have to do the “pat-down.” Now that’s a job I would not want…everyone is pissy and offended that you’re feeling up there nether regions. Feeling peoples junk all day cannot be any fun…What kind of training would you have to go though? Would you have to pass a tests? “I’m sorry Jon, but you failed…that was not my ball sack…it was a sack of C4. Lisa however passed with her VERY thorough inspections.” *wink*
If you were a woman TAS agent having to give men pat downs…can you imagine all the lines you’d hear
“No that is not a pipe bomb…I’m just happy to see you.”
“Can you do that again…just faster and longer?”
“Wait you might want to check again I think you missed something…yeah thats it.”
"A little to the left please."
“Oh baby…and I didn’t even have to buy you dinner.”
"Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
“Got a cigarette?”
“All this attention is making my head swell.”
“Wow this gives ‘flying the friendly skies’ a new meaning.” *wink*
I’m sure that they have male agents’ pat-down men…or we would hope. I think the next time I fly I’ll stick a banana in my pants just to make things a bit more interesting.
Imagines from AFP