Fun with TSA

[Forrest Walker]

I tend to have rather funny things happen to me when I travel. Perhaps it is because I travel
for fun, usually. I don't mind much, except standing in line at immigration in
a place like Lima Peru. In Lima, at least three jumbos arrive within a half
hour of each other at night, about midnight. The immigration post has a dozen
or so stations, of which two or three are manned. The line snakes back outside
of the immigration room, into an adjoining hallway, where people crush and
elbow their way towards the official lines, only to stand there for another
hour.

But onto something humorous.

I had just arrived from Panama in Atlanta. I had
to catch a plane to Los Angeles.
Therefore, I had to pass through the #FFFFCC"">TSA security post to get into the domestic side of the
airport.
I had been living on an island for over two years
at the time, and through no effort on my part, I had lost over twenty pounds.
This was not a problem, except that all my clothes, especially my Levis were
too big for me now.
Also, I carry my cash/credit cards and passport in
a travel bag around my neck. Because it is both uncomfortable and unsightly to
wear it over my stomach, I wear it under one arm. This means that in order to
take it off, I must remove my shirt. More on that in a moment.

When it was my turn at the metal detector, the
middle-aged, minimum waged and minimum trained #FFFFCC"">TSA guy told me to remove my belt.

"Sir, I have lost 20 pounds living in Panama.
If I remove my belt, my pants will fall down."

Steely eyed and like a brainless automaton, he
repeated "Remove your belt."

So, having no alternative other than walking to
Los Angeles, I removed my belt. I was now standing in line in front of a lot of
business travelers, holding my pants up with one hand. Mr.TSA noticed
the travel bag and asked "What is that?"

I replied as nicely as I could "My passport
holder, sir." (perhaps the sir came out snidely, knowing me it did)

"Take it off" he demanded.

"Sir (snidely) to take it off I must take off
my shirt. To take off my shirt, I have to let go of my pants, and I promise you
sir (very snidely) they will fall down."

"Take it off" the man said.

I let go of my pants. They fell to my knees. I
unbuttoned my Hawaiian shirt and removed it so I could get the passport holder
off. I threw the shirt into the plastic bucket with my belt and other items. I
had been en-route for 9 hours, and I was very worried that my BVD's were in a
condition that would shame my mother, even though she was not there at the
time. I pulled up my pants, holding onto them like my pride depended on it,
which it did.

The TSA man said,
before I got to the metal detector "Hey, put your shirt back on".

"Sir, (again, snidely) if I let go of my
pants they will fall down again. Don't you think these people behind me have
seen enough of the behind of me?"

"Put you shirt back on".

"Yes SIR" (very snidely)

I let my pants drop and slowly slipped into my
Aloha shirt and buttoned it. I turned to watch the business travelers behind
me. Half were harried because I was their worst nightmare, that being someone
who cost them time, and the other half were smiling or laughing. I gave them
all a big smile and said "Hey, at least we are safe in the air!"