A PSA from Me and The TSA
Next weekend I’m taking a short trip to Nashville. I’ve finally decided it’s time for me to dive in and really start experiencing some of the things this country has to offer, but I will be packing a little differently for this trip than I did the last one.
If you all remember, last November I flew to Toronto to visit the now ex-boyfriend. That is such a long story, and one I’m not quite ready to tell, so we’ll just let it go at that, but being who I am, I was hoping to “have some fun” i.e. “get laid”, while in Toronto.
Sometimes, one would like to use “additional items” for sexual encounters, so I packed a small vibrator. It was like travel size. I even bought it in the travel size section of the adult toy store–travel size vibrators, travel size lube. To me, travel size=fun size! But, I digress.
It had been awhile since I’d flown, but didn’t think much about going through security, as I didn’t figure they would find anything too suspicious in there. Little did I know, my loose face powder was going to set off some sort of “search that bitch’s bag” alert. No big deal–until I remember I’ve got that damn vibrator in there!! And who’s going to search my bag? Not one of the four women standing around there, but the one guy on duty. Fucking fantastic.
“Pleasedon’tfindthevibratorpleasedon’tfindthevibratorpleasedontfindthevibrator”
I keep chanting over and over in my head, as I feel a sheen of sweat form on my upper lip.
He gets his gloves on and starts digging, setting items in Ziploc bags out on the table for everyone to see, and telling me when he finds the powder, that he’s sure that’s what has set off the sensor.
“Oh, but you can’t take this on the plane,” he says, as my heart drops into my gut, and he holds up. . . . a small bottle of hairspray.
You thought I was going to say the vibrator, didn’t you? Thank the god of dildos and sex toys, the guy did not ask to see what was in the little zebra striped bag, and informed me I could load my makeup and clothing back into the suitcase.
Going through customs in Toronto I was worried I would have to go through that scenario all over again, as they pulled my bag aside to search it.
“Mam, you can’t have the wine. If you want to take the wine you have to check the bag.”
“Fuck that, I’ll stand right here and drink it, because there’s no way I’m letting you bastards get drunk on my Canadian wine and pleasure yourselves with my vibrator!!”
Needless to say, the vibrator is staying home this time because TSA is not partying on my dime! Those toys are expensive!
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 