The security checks at the airport are always fun. You have to remove any metal and your shoes and send your belongings through a machine where they may or may not be checking the contents of your bag. I usually make it through without a second look from them. Not today. I chose to keep my hooded sweatshirt on as I passed through the metal detector. It did not go off (because I had no metal on me). But that was not good enough for the agent. Nope. He pulled me aside and said I had to be patted down by a female agent. Seriously? I asked why (politely) and he said "you're bulky." I bit my lip because I wanted to say "Hey fatty, who are you calling bulky?!" The nerve of him. At this point I start to lift my shirt up so anyone in earshot of hearing I'm bulky can see that I am not really bulky. He proceeds to call a female agent over and I am told to follow her and to "stand on the footprints on the mat." Since I don't do well with authority figures, I chose to stand on the mat but not on the footprints. I know, I'm such a rebel. Here's where the fun begins.
Agent: "put your arms out to the sides"
Me: "OK. I could take my sweatshirt off if it makes it easier. I have another shirt underneath."
Agent: "no, that's OK."
Me: "Please be gentle. I'm delicate."
At this point, as she's groping me, I'm wondering if this is some kind of kinky fantasy for the Wingman. He is now standing nearby and watching.
Agent: "OK, you're clear. Enjoy your flight."
Me: "Was it good for you?"
Me (as she walks away): "Call me........."
I hope I didn't sound too desperate. You have to look on the bright side of this. I got a free breast exam and was this close to having a pelvic exam without giving up a copay. Maybe this government run healthcare system isn't all that bad.