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Wednesday, September 16, 2015

That's not a bomb. That's my belly!

The Atlanta airport TSA now screens with one of those full X-ray machines. Sometimes, I get flagged to be expedited though security, where at most, they check my palms for residue, and sometimes I get the full she-bang.

When I do have to go through the X-ray machine, I have to say it is kind of humiliating. First, you go in, barefoot and put your feet on the germy looking painted feet on the floor, then you lift your hands above your head... and you know... just know, someone is checking out your body and all of its secrets.  Some people do this step and then keep moving, shaking off the feeling of personal violation.  But me... no, not me.

I have to then stand on the next germy foot pad and get felt up.  Apparently the girth I hold around my middle region looks like strapped-on explosives.  The last couple of times, someone rubbed the back of their hands over my stomach, to which I replied... "It's just fat."  They usually giggle and agree.  This time, the young lady kneeded my belly as if she was making pizza dough. It made me feel nauseous.  I replied, (cuz after you are violated, you have to say something, right?).. I replied, see, It's just fat.  She rolled her eyes, and I walked away. Personally I still feel like I deserve a steak dinner.

I'm sorry, I realize they are trying to protect the passengers and myself, but this makes no sense. If my face is chubby. and my legs are as thick and shapely as they are, and my butt is... well, my butt, then chances are, that the girth I am packing on my middle is a flesh belt, and nothing more.

They should really spend more time looking for actual terrorists.

But at least, they stopped combing through my hair, because an afro or a braided bun is surely hiding something right?

Update:  They felt up my stomach, back, and hair on the way back... I'm pretty sure they're not allowed to check your hair anymore.

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