I'm Baaaaaaack...Redux

As Carl predicted (altho in a different context and probably sooner than he expected), I have something to say about TSA.

I figured it would be sometime during this trip to the Bay Area that I would face my first full body scanner, either at JFK or SFO. I had already announced to Durf that I would be opting out. He expressed befuddlement (more than the usual amount). I explained that I have no problem with hordes of TSA men huddling around a screen gawking at my naked body. My problem is that my body already contains more than its full complement of radiation. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say, my body has been irradiated enough!

The anticipated moment came as I was going through security in SFO on my return trip to New York. When the TSA person motioned me toward the scanner, I said I'd rather be groped. That brought all TSA agents in the area to a freeze position.

But in short order, someone shouted, "We have an opt-out," and I was shunted to a tiny cordoned off area where I stood for about five minutes waiting for my groper to arrive. When she did, she asked if I wanted a private room. I said no, let's do this before god and everyone else who wants a little entertainment on a Sunday morning. And so she started issuing orders. "Sit there." "Is this your stuff? Don't touch it." etc. There ensued another five minutes of explanation for how and where she was going to touch me. All the while I'm thinking, "Get on with it. I've got places to go, things to do, coffee and scone to buy!"

Finally the groping started. I yawned through the process, but she kept looking at me as though I was going to slap her face if she touched my junk.

She did but I didn't.