According to an article I read in the newspaper, TSA employees are very upset that airline passengers have recently starting insulting them. I’m the first to point out that association doesn’t prove cause and effect, but I’m reasonably sure if we tracked the rise in passenger insults, they’d correspond nicely with the rise in passengers being offered a choice between a nude x-ray or a feel-up. So what we’re looking at is the result of interactions like this:
“We need to take a nude x-ray of you now so we can determine if you’re carrying a gun.”
“Wouldn’t a metal detector tell you if I’m carrying a gun?”
“Yes, but metal detectors can’t tell us if you’re wearing exploding underwear.”
“And the nude x-ray machine do?”
“Uh … no.”
“Forget it. You’re not taking a picture of my privates.”
“Okay then, you need to step over there, and someone will need to rub your legs and squeeze your groin area.”
“Get your hands off of me, you freakin’ pervert!”
“Geez, you don’t have to talk all mean and stuff! I’m just doing my job!”
TSA officials are quick to point out that the legally-required gropings are “same-sex.” Why anyone would offer that fact as a rationalization is beyond me. I find the idea of having my privates groped by another male disturbing, whereas when I was single, being groped by a female was an active goal.
In fact, it’s hard not to enjoy being groped by certain females. Back when I was stuck in an HMO, I ended up requesting a different primary-care physician because the one assigned to me happened to be a good-looking blonde. Her looks weren’t an issue until certain examinations were necesssary. Then, during a procedure I would’ve preferred remain clinical and at least vaguely disgusting, I realized I was in danger of enjoying it … a lot. And since she was a doctor and all, I was pretty sure she’d notice.
I immediately ordered myself to think about baseball statistics. Unfortunately, I’m not a baseball nut and don’t know many statistics, which is one of the reasons I don’t hang around in bars and start who’s-a-better-pitcher debates. So there I was, being prodded and groped, and mentally reciting the only statistic I knew: “Andre Dawson hit 49 homers in 1987! Andre Dawson hit 49 homers in 1987! I am totally unaware that a good-looking blonde is handling my privates!”
I haven’t seen many good-looking blondes wearing TSA uniforms, but all other things being equal, I’d still prefer being fondled by woman than by a guy who looks like a character from The Sopranos.
Women, of course, may prefer same-sex gropings over being touched by a strange man. Some men, on the other hand, may prefer being touched by a strange man. Which leads to my point: the government is missing out on an opportunity to make this whole controversy go away and possibly even reduce the trillion-dollar deficit at the same time. They just need to admit that having your privates touched is personally invasive and re-design airport security so we’ll stop complaining and happily pay for the privilege.
One option would be to hire really hot TSA agents and dress them up in the kind of uniforms we’d expect to see at Hooters or Chippendale’s. Then, for a $25 fee, the TSA could offer us the chance to pick our own agent from a lineup, male or female. For another $50, we could request an all-nude grope session in a private security room — which, if anything, would enhance airline security. Nude x-ray machines don’t reveal plastic explosives, but a nude grope would be nearly foolproof.
Yes, it would cost more to hire the hot TSA agents, but as people in government like say, this program will pay itself. I figure at a minimum, a hot TSA agent could process six passengers per hour. That’s $150 per hour in fees, and could go as high as $450 if passengers go for the all-nude sessions. So the government pays the hotties $100 per hour and still comes out way ahead.
As an added benefit, the lure of high pay could drain good-looking bubbleheads with no talent away from Los Angeles, thus relieving over-crowding on the city’s freeways … although without the bubble-heads, the Democrats would likely lose control of the California legislature, prompting businesses to stop fleeing the state.
I realize many passengers would have no interest in being groped no how matter good-looking the TSA agents are, so there should also be a second option: in-terminal medical exams. When Obama and the Democrats voted for a trillion-dollar health-care “reform” bill, they assured us most of the additional deficit would be offset by reducing inefficiencies and focusing more on preventative care instead of merely treating diseases. (I immediately wondered why they didn’t reduce those inefficiencies without spending the extra trillion first, but that’s how my mind works.)
Well, preventative care is good, and it’s certainly more efficient to hire federal employees who can multi-task. So for passengers who don’t want to be groped by TSA hotties, we should offer the option of being groped by a TSA doctor. That way, passengers could pony up a $25 co-pay and receive a security screening and a medical screening at the same time:
“May I see your ticket, sir?”
“Take off your clothes and stand over there. Has anyone you don’t know asked you to carry any items onto the plane?”
“Have your bags been in your possession since you entered the airport?”
“How long have you had this brown mark on your shoulder?
“I’m not sure. Couple of months, maybe.”
“We need to keep an eye on that. When can you come in for a follow-up?”
“I’m flying to Atlanta next month on business.”
“Okay, I’ll check it then. Now, I need to put my hand right here. Cough for me. One more time. Good, you can go. Next! Ma’am, could you step over here, please? Yes, right there is fine. Now, I’m going need to touch your breasts.”
“To make sure your bra isn’t armed with explosives, and to check for lumps.”
“Well … okay. I am overdue.”
“Let’s see … Uh-huh. Uh-huh. You seem to be fine. Go on through. Next! Over here, sir. Yes, there. Now, I’m afraid I’ll need to check your prostate today.”
“Are you kidding me? I don’t have prostate trouble! I’m only 22!”
“Which makes you a young male traveling alone on a one-way flight. Standard procedure.”