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i got searched at the philly airport last night and it was a thrilling experience. 2 nsa/tsa/tcb/whatever the fuck guards pulled me aside while I was going through security. apparantly, I had left a lighter in my purse. apparently, that's the indicator that this is the crazed person who has recently broken out of prison and is looking to do mad torturous things to her fellow passengers before causing the plane to crash into a big silo or something. anyway, long story short, they brought me to the little room and took all of my stuff out of my purse and computer bag, asked me why I was reading a copy of "The Onion Field" (a true crime novel--still scratching my head about why they cared about that) and then they had a little argument in front of me when one guy was about to do the patdown thing on my clothes/body and the other guy quickly reminded him that since I have boobs, another person with boobs needs to do the patdown thing to me.
Guy 1: Sheila's here. Where's Sheila? then I just started examining my cuticles. and sighing loudly. then they inexplicably just let me go. no discussions, nothing. I think an episode of CSI was on in the lounge or something. good to be back in chicago where at least some of the cops are southside sausage shaped, so you know they won't be standing up for long. Salem Collo-Julin
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