Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes
Crossposted this over at Reddit. I wrote this up earlier today. I had been talking to Sapper, and a couple of old stories came up, so I figured to share it here, as well as there. Hope you enjoy
Be Me, Mister Iraq-Contractor, flying home due to a Red Cross Family Emergency.
Dad had a heart attack, so I was moved pretty quickly via MilAir out of Baghdad and back to CONUS (Continental US). However… plans went sideways when I hit Virginia. There were no options but to buy a one-way ticket, (at the last minute mind you) at extortionist prices to get me back to Tampa Bay. Because of the situation, i.e. “drop everything and boogie” I had the barest minimum of gear, and was dressed in an absolute minimum, (long sleeved Harley T-Shirt, cutoff Desert BDU pants and sandals, no drawers… I never did, ‘cos Iraq is 10,000 miles closer to the sun than anywhere else on Earth…this’s important later) carrying a bag with my laptop, and I think my toothbrush and that was about it. Like I said an absolute minimal amount of luggage. I had stored my helmet and body armor at Ali-Al-Saleem Air Base as it was heavy and tended to draw stares when traveling civilian air.
So… Everyone’s favorite DotGov agency the TSA
(Thousands Standing Around as my brother-the-Fed calls them) tends to be a bit, shall we say, overzealous at best, and absolute assholes at worst. In this case, they were a combination of both. Unfortunately a year or so before, I had “popped hot” so to speak for “explosive residue” on my gear (Duh! Warzone! OF COURSE I had ‘residue’ on my shit…) and ‘someone’ had entered it into my ‘permanent record’ meaning I always got popped for “Closer Examination” which I called “The Full Monty”. Very annoying in this case, as I gots places to be, things to do, and didn’t want/need the hassle of some overweight sub 70 IQ’d moron who couldn’t get a job at the DMV.
So, I’m now hitting the multiple checkmarks on their little “list”. No checked bag, previous issue(s), one way ticket… Despite being a Contractor, volunteering to support the DotMil, they want to make life difficult, just to make sure I’m not a terrorist donchaknow? So as mentioned, I’m wearing the DotMil Issue 3 Color DCU (Desert Camo Uniform) pants that I had cut the legs off of to make some comfy cargo shorts out of… Now to those who know, there are these little ‘friction lock’ metal tabs and fabric loops that tighten the waistband up, which means you don’t necessarily need a belt. As soon as Mister “I’m The TSA Do What I Say” sees my boarding pass marked with the “Strip search this guy” markings he pulls me aside, his crony starts rifling my Laptop bag, and he tells me to “…take off my belt, and put my hands over my head, so he can ‘sweep’ my waistband with his fingers” (to make sure I’m not smuggling an nuclear weapon I’m sure).
I tell him, “Ain’t got a belt” and proceed to loosen the metal tabs.
Now… according to many XGFs, I have what’s called “tragic whytteboy ass” meaning flat as a pancake. When I loosened the tabs, the only thing keeping my pants on is my junk, and barely then even. I knew what I was going to do, and promptly did it… a slight wiggle of Ye Olde Hips, and > whoopsie! < my pants head southward, I quickly raised my hands over my head, thereby raising my t-shirt up quite a bit, exposing Ye Olde Nether Regions to the entire terminal as I yelled out in my best Drill Sgt Voice:
“NO BRASS NO AMMO DRILL SERGEANT!!!!”
(Those of you know, that’s what us privates yelled when being cleared from a live-fire range in basic.)
Needless to say, Heads turned, some faces shocked, others amused and many commands were issued, in HIGHLY angered voices, as the majority of people of course turned to see lil ole me, hands in the air, and junk dangling for all to admire. Because of all the ‘stuff’ I went through in the Army, being pretty much buck-ass nekkid in front of the world didn’t bother me, but man, I thought the TSA Asshole was going to stroke the fuck out. Lots of screaming. Lots of panic all around. After finally getting somewhat un-discombobulated, the TSA guy, after me getting my pants back on, I was told to “GTFO of here or I’ll have you arrested!” To which I told him, “Hey man, I was only following your orders! It’s not my fault my pants came off! I should sue for my embarrassment!”
I then continued on to my flight, with one guy, a Skater-Bro that I could tell, as I was leaving to my gate, he came over and high fived me and telling me that “That was epic bro!”
Funny thing is, I no longer get pulled for extra-screening. Go figure Eh? Wonder why that is the case… Jes’ Sayin’
So More Later