Since I’m going to be searched anyway, I’m going to start
having fun with it. From now on, whenever I am pulled aside
for a little extra attention in an airport, I’m going to make the
airport security drone as uncomfortable as possible. I’m going
to strip him of whatever petty little thrill he gets from bullying
the public.
Here’s my plan –
Next time someone asks if they can search my bag, I’m going
to reply with my best, simpering gay-porn star voice. “Please,
handle my bag as much as you want. Shall I take off my shoes?
Shirt? Drop my pants?”
As Captain Safety is chewing on that, he’ll open my bag to
discover a few items I’ve planted for him. See, from now on I’m
traveling with no fewer than three sex toys in my carry-on. Very
large sex toys, in very bright colors. Toys that have three speeds
and several rubberized attachments. Toys that I will turn on
before entering the terminal.
While he searches through this bouquet of vibrating, thrusting
nastiness, I will give him a smoldering stare and chew my lip.
Maybe let out a little moan every now and then. Our Safety-Buddy
will pretend not to notice. He will focus all his attention on the
contents of my bags. He will not want to deal with the pervert in
front of him.
And that’s when he’ll find it. My masterpiece. I’ve photoshopped
together a little magazine called “Airport Security Erotica.” And
when he finds that little gem amid the buzzing, whirring latex and
steel in my bag, he’s going to seriously consider alternative
employment. He will become as totally uncomfortable as I am every
time one of these psychos rubs his "wand” on my feet.