At the 1:30 mark in the private room, I make my only mistake. During the third and final vertical pass across my shaft, TSA guy “Zed” says: “You can relax, sir.” That was probably in response to the fact that I was sweating so profusely I probably needed an IV. But I did not appreciate it. I wanted to say, “The next time I use an epic tragedy as a trumped up excuse to molest you, we’ll see how relaxed you are.” Of course, I didn’t say that, but I did flash him my “if you were any other man, I’d kill you where you stand” look. In fairness to him, it must be difficult making new blood enemies every single day.
The main guy finishes me off by tapping the top of my left foot. I notice this because he didn’t tap the bottom of my left foot, or address my right foot at all. So, for those playing along at home, I couldn’t have nestled a marijuana leaf in my pants, but I’d have gotten away with a pack of joints in my right sock.
That’s when the lawyer part of my brain comes back online with about ten Fourth Amendment questions. How is this a “reasonable” search under any level of scrutiny? I haven’t spent a day in lockup, but even I know that your butt cheeks are where you store stabbing weapons. Yet, they did not search up there. The TSA is so reactionary that they probably won’t do that until there’s a rectal bomber, but once there is, every airport trip will double as a prostate exam.
As I walk out of the screening room — not much more than two minutes after I entered — I’m trying to re-tuck in my shirt and grab my clothes (note: my bags were not searched, at all; maybe the TSA thinks that crotches are themselves weapons of mass destruction). Rage builds inside me. Not at the TSA (I was still too worried about pissing them off), but at Article III judges. How many of them, do you think, have been handled by the TSA in this way? Less than 1 percent, I imagine.
In fact, these judges are used to a world where extremely educated people use honorifics and kiss their asses every single day. What would one of them think if they were dressed down, taken to a secret place, molested, and then kicked back out into the garish light of a major airport, still trying to pull their underwear out of their ass cracks? Do you think they’d still all be so damn eager to allow the TSA to do whatever it wants?
Do you think a TSA administrator would want his wife to go through that? Do you think the Secret Service would allow the President to be touched in that manner by any person other than his doctor or the First Lady?
-Full story on Above The Law
I'm a little uncomfortable with the idea that flying out of an American airport means consenting to being molested by a stranger (Don't call it rape, though, or the TSA might sue you for a half million dollars).
Locking cabin doors on airplanes (duh?) was the only reasonable security enhancement that followed 9/11. The rest is expensive, abusive theater.