TSA is off the chain. You're, somehow, getting rubbed, touched, undressed, patted and groped. Now, for someone who doesn't get it on a regular basis, one might like that.
Got to the belt, took my shoes, belt, owl earrings and thirty-five braclets (bangles, if you're Jamaican) off. Put everything in the plastic containers and went through the scanner thing (I have this down to a science-do it every Sunday and Thursday). Nope! It buzzed me. I pat myself down. I'd forgotten this necklace. I asked the guy behind me to take it off for me. Yes, a little bit of flirting but mostly because it has a funny clasp and I couldn't get it. I go through again. I'm buzzed. Okay, what gives? The officer was very nice, 'belt?' I said, 'off'. He asked, 'maybe it's those BIG bra underwires.' I could have kissed him. This full body shaper from Lane Bryant was doing its job very well and like I said, the girls were working it today. 'That may be it,' I say to him. He told me he'd have to pat me down. Didn't really want him to so I checked my wrists and yep, I'd left one bracelet/bangle on. I took it off and went through again. I was good to go. My TSA officer looked a little disappointed. Too bad. Not my type.
I go towards my belongings and this freakily handsome black guy was going through my things. I approach and he asks, 'are these your very nice things?' 'Uhm, yes,' I respond. 'Do you need to go through them?" He answers, 'Nah, just seeing what you've got going on.' I reach for my belt, in a seperate container, because I forgot to take it off and had to send it in solo. "Is this your belt?" "Yes," I respond. He lifts the belt and checks it out. "Nice belt." Really dude...it's a regular old belt, but whatever. Are you kidding me? And if that wasn't bad enough the conversation continued like this:
Him: So you like accessories, huh?
Me: I do
Him: Well, they're nice and they look good on you.
Me: I didn't even put them back on yet
Him: I saw you before you took them off (cheesing the entire time)
Me: Okay, thanks
Him: Where are you off to?
Me: Chicago
Him: You live there?
Me: No, I live here (not sure why I'm answering him:
Him: Oh, for real. So, why are you going to Chicago?
Me: (smiling) I work out there
Him: Oh, nice. So you have a condo out there or something.
Me: No. (no need to elaborate)
Him: Got someone out there?
Me: No (thinking, 'shouldn't you be asking if I have someone here in Atlanta, where I live?)
Him: When do you come home?
Me: On Thursdays
(The entire time, I'm getting dressed-for lack of a better term)
Him: So you stay in hotels or something?
Me: Tony, I have to run (he had a name badge on with that beautiful smile)
Him: Wait, what time is your flight?
Me: Now
Him: So, I'll see you again next week?
Me: More than likely (God, I hope so)
Him: Okay beautiful. Be good in Chicago. Save some for when you get back.
I smile, walk away and go sit to strap up my slippers.
All the while, these two other TSA officers are laughing. I look over and smile and I guess one thought that was an invitation to come over and talk to me. His name is Nobles (badge. Didn't I just mention that?)
Nobles: Tony's kinda shy. How are you?
Me: Aren't terroritst coming through if you're not monitoring?
Nobles: (smiles). Nah, we're good. Where are you off to? (Way to go US TSA/Atlanta!)
Me: Work
Him: When do you come back?
Me: You guys do this a lot, huh?
Him: What do you mean?
Me: Exactly. I gotta run Nobles. Got a flight to catch
Him: How'd you know my name?
I just smile, shake my head, wave at Tony and the other random officer, touch Nobles on the shoulder and walk away.
