Sunday, September 25, 2011

and how could I have forgotten, the woMan pat down

Maybe I shouldn't fly before 8 am. Besides the cranky bitch who took my wine bottle opener (I broke the knife off of it but apparently, after flying through DIA for 6 fucking years, someone thought it was a security threat) I was subjected to a pat down by a woMan. Meaning, I thought she was a man until she spoke to me.

I had just walked out of the x-ray whirrly gig and was arguing about my opener when the x-ray whirrly gig operator said "I need to examine your hair."

Um, what? I know in recent weeks my hair has taken on epic proportions (need a haircut). And I had just applied a Fekkai hair mask last night (best hair products ever) and just rinsed it out without washing my hair. And this morning I didn't bother drying it because it saves time to just roll down my window and dry it that way (sorry Cam). So I admit I looked a little crazy with all my cowlicks and curls that corkscrew out from the sides of my head. But still.

So I went to remove my sunglasses, which I had put on top of my head, and she yelled "Ma'am, DON'T MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVES!" Like, it's 7 in the morning. I don't get moving until at least 10. She ran her fingers through my hair, at one point getting her hand stuck (I have knots). Then she looked at the top of my head for at least 20 seconds (blue latex gloves on my face, so gross) before finally telling me I could go.

What the fuck? What the fuck did I do to deserve having my hair man handled? I think all TSA employees should be randomly checked by their co-workers. It was humiliating. I do not like to be touched, especially by a woMan.

I have a small rash on my face where she touched it. Maybe I'll sue.

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