The Sexually Absent workers known as the TSA

floridaIllustration by Frank Chimero

I’m home from my Floridian getaway for just long enough to drop off my bags and give my grandma a kiss goodbye before I head back to JFK. I’ve been on a lot of flights, this month. I simply don’t complain about them because I love everything about airplanes right down to the turbulence. This flight was no different. What I found infuriating was the TSA workers.

airport security x rayAt any airport I’ve been to since the option of self check in machines have begun to pop up, it has saved me hours of airport frustration. No lines of people trying to haggle the desk workers for a better seat or magically bringing the flight that they have missed back to the landing strip, when all I need to do is had off a suitcase. The divide between full service and self check in, has taken a load of stress off of the airport adventure.

Florida obviously has not gotten this memo that their job has been simplified! That suddenly, all your job entails is an ID check and a bag hand off. If they had, I wouldn’t have been 3 hours early to the airport and yet nearly late for my flight. I stood in a line out the door, listened to an entire Pantera album, read 3 chapters of my book. and nodded my head along with the aggravaited tourists around me every 3 minutes that someone would ask “Is this just the self check in line!?”. It took forever to get to the front of a line where I hand my ID to a woman who told me that a coffee table book was making my bag into an overweight item, and that I would have to take it with me. I placed it in my carry on bag, heard the announcement that my flight was boarding, and made a dash for the gates.

tsa-2I made a special effort to not carry anything of suspicion onto the plane. So imagine my confusion when a stand bare footed at the end of a conveyer belt to watch Latoya roll her eyes and lackadaisically holla’ out “BAG CHECK…” from her high horse.

What the fuck did I do?! No liquids, lighters, or drugs. It was such a sober bag, in my eyes!

Quite obviously it was the pin-up coffee table book wedged into my bag that triggered the thought of terrorism, since it was the item that the two young union working men was instantly drawn to. This book of nude women seemed to cause such a threat, that the two nitwits who discovered it had to call back up. Soon there were 4 assholes in uniforms drooling over a tits as I stared at the clock reminding me of every passing minute that my flight was still boarding. At this point they decided that my purse  should be checked as well. I guess they knew that ladies usually carry hand lotion and tissues in those.

I explained to a solid bricked wall that I was running a bit late for a flight. Remaining calm and chipper, I requested to know what could have possibly triggered the search through my purse, since it was only being used to hold my wallet, phone, and some cough drops. I got no response from the man who considered multi-tasking  plucking through my wallet while looking at pages of pussy.

I then asked the “lead” bag checker what about the book could have possibly signaled a threat to a machine that sees silhouettes in various colors. His face went from that of a glowing 12 year old finding his first stack of Playboys, back to the semi serious face of a TSA ‘leader’ to tell me that it wasn’t the even book, that had now stolen 6 otherwise unimportant minutes of my life. It was the sealed package of cookies that I was bringing home for a panda loving friend. The cookies that were briefly held and placed aside, to check out the other shit in my bag. A stack of cookies in a well designed package is cause for a security breach!? Is a sugary gelatinous creme the newest  innovative bomb technique? Could my master plan to smuggling cocaine from Miami to New York be wedging it between 2 chalky cookies? Or just an excuse for a group of people with unqualified power, who are bored with their job to got through peoples personal things, in hopes of finding women in any capacity.

When I got home, I vented about this to my room mate. He told me that I could very easily get the group of men fired with a phone call. As Chloe version 2.0 entertained this idea, she did not act on it like Chloe 1.5 may have. Its too difficult for people to find jobs right now. Despite the fact that there was a complete disrespect for what type of job they were doing even after hearing my name being summoned through an intercom, I made my flight and thats what mattered.

Now please enjoy the pay off of my rant:

“Awe ain’t that sweet? You fly to Paris with yo mamma. The that bitch to shave, cause she lookin’ like Osama”


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4 Responses to “The Sexually Absent workers known as the TSA”

  1. Frank Says:

    Yeah well, I went Eudora, Arkansas… the Catfish Capital of Arkansas. It might lack the sunny, jeux de vie of Florida but I didn’t have to hassle with TSA. Either way, a book full of tits will stop me dead in my tracks as well.

  2. Laura Says:

    I’ve been stopped before for unusually-shaped candy, before. I’ve had pat-downs a few times. I sincerely hate the TSA. On the other hand, Publix packaging is phenomenal in its simplistic simplicity.

    And this:
    So imagine my confusion when a stand bare footed at the end of a conveyer belt to watch Latoya roll her eyes and lackadaisically holla’ out “BAG CHECK…” from her high horse.
    Is fantastic.

  3. :: smo :: Says:

    that’s retardiculous.

  4. Rachel Says:

    I went to camp with one of the rappers in this video…I was totally dying watching this. So funny.

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