The Pat-down…

Yesterday we bid adieu to Sarasota, Florida after a very pleasant week in the sun enjoying time with Mike’s family and my Aunt Gen.  I found the Sarasota airport to be a nice, manageable airport that was decidedly slower-paced and more mellow than most other airports I have traveled through. The people there likewise seemed to take their time and be mellow.

In such an environment, I stand out.  Apparently, I stood out quite a bit.  I surmise that explains why TSA decided I needed to receive a pat-down.  I can’t tell you how long I have waited to have my first pat-down.  With all the traveling I do and my never-ending need to joke around with TSA agents, it is a wonder that I haven’t been put on the mandatory strip search list at each and every airport I travel through.

So I was a bit excited when I realized I was finally going to receive a pat-down.  I had so many witty, sarcastic things that I have long thought would be clever to share in such a situation.  Things that would not only humor me, but likely give the TSA agents nearby something to talk about over their lunch hour.  Things that most people wouldn’t joke about because they were horrified at the thought of the pat-down. 

I thought my request for a nice strapping young man to do my pat-down would be honored, but apparently they don’t allow different sex pat-downs (the TSA folks are real wet blankets on that front).  That little rule killed more than half my jokes.; however,  I was determined to still maximize the moment…I had waited so long. 

Then I got the nicest female TSA agent I have ever personally encountered as my personal pat-down professional.   Her demeanor reminded me of the kind of gynecologistwho tells you everything she is going to do beforehand in a quiet, soothing voice and also warms up the instruments for your comfort.  All that niceness and thoughtful consideration completely ruined my sarcastic mojo.  The delicious quips I had spent years waiting to utter seemed inappropriate with the nicest TSA agent ever. Uggh…what a downer.

Needless to say, my long-awaited pat-down was not the titillating event I had hoped it would be.  It was merely a pedestrian exercise in a very nice woman doing her job and a very big pain-in-the-fanny being uncharacteristically quiet.  Maybe next time I’ll be picked to be strip searched…I have some great one-liners for that experience! 😉

Day eight hundred and seventy-six of the new forty – obla di obla da

Ms. C

1 Response

  1. Barbara

    So refreshing to see that someone has found some humor in the TSA procedures! Sorry to hear that you weren’t able to use your “delicious quips”, but I’m sure they’ll acquire even more zip from incubating a bit longer. 😀 You go, girl!

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