© 2011 Aaron Atkinson

Hi Jack

TSA Agent: I’m going to need to pat down your backside.

Me: No problem. (What else am I going to say?)

So he did. He patted me down. Mostly on my back.

I wanted to ask him why he patted only my back. What if I had a bomb duct taped to my chest? But he looked serious and I figured he wouldn’t take too well to that question, so I proceeded forward onto my delayed flight home from San Francisco.

That mental interplay reminded me of the time I was witness someone getting yelled at in the airport.

I had just exited the gate area after landing in El Paso. The middle-aged man in front of me was greeted by a younger man, whom I presumed to be his son, and a young lady, perhaps the son’s wife. The young man shook his father’s hand, and the young lady, in an especially projective voice welcomed him home as such…

Loud Lady: Hi Jack!

They don’t like that greeting at the airport.

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *


You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>